ODE TO THE WOULD-BE MOM

Angel, Oh Angel, What troubles you so?
Your expression 'tis sad, and so full of woe.

Burdensome ponderings, darken your mind,
Tiny babies need showering, with love, soft'n kind.
Don't birth babies and leave 'em alone.
Don't have babies and not give 'em a good home.

Parenting 'tis a precious gift,
Nurturing influences, how babies will live;
Happy childhoods, ignite lives of bliss,
Maltreatment, shortens futures and hurts progress,
Whether they grow up and live in the slums,
Or grow up and live above the below.
Make sure love and innocence, is what tiny tots know.