Saturday, 14 March 2009

A child is born

I was a changeling child
abandoned but with golden
hopes that real mum
and real dad once
secret deeds were done
would rush crying to hold and hug,
making me
a real family

Sitting, staring at a dirty bed
listening to the drunkard
brawls below, pictures
formed of futures,
of hospital mistakes
so my home wormed
away by a sickly child
meant for this life.

If I was really good or really ill
Doctors and teachers would
know who I was.
I would
have the birth
for me.

1 comment:

  1. a bleak but necessary take on this week's prompt. most people went straight for the happy fluffy happiness of birth. but its good to see both sides of the coin. thanks for writing.


Welcome and thanks for dropping in. I'll pop by yours by and by.

This blog was inspired by First 50 words where you freewrite from a single word prompt. I use random words or images to create flash fiction in formats ranging from twitter postcards to short short stories.