HG ( / Sheffield, England)

A Baby Born To A Teenage Mum

A baby born to a teenage mum,
a fashion accesory like a ring on her thumb.
She thinks it's cool, and he's so sweet.
with his tiny pink fingers, and his perfect little feet.
She lays in her bed, with flowers all around,
and all say 'He's so lovely, you must be very proud'
But the hospital stay's soon over, and the flowers all soon die.
then it's off home to her tiny flat, where he'll eat, and sleep, and cry.

For the first few weeks there's visitors, all her friends and nieghbours too,
but they soon stop their calling, for they've all things to do.
Her family pop round once a week, to see she's getting by,
but mostly she's in her tiny flat, where he eats, and sleeps, and cries.

The days turn into weeks, and the weeks roll by so fast,
and in quiet times she thinks of friends, of how she used to laugh.
But they're all moving on now, at school and college learning,
and they don't come round anymore, for their life she feels a yearning.
How she thought she was so clever, as she walked pregnant from school gate,
Thought her life would be so rosy, given to her on a plate.

Now she sits home with baby, watching Oprah on TV,
on tablets for depression, for her teenage misery.
'Cause it's hard to do the shopping, paying bills from benefits,
just playing 'Row, row, row your boat' as in four walls she sits.

If she could have her last year over, how her choices she would change,
and though she loves her boy to bits, she would Not be in this cage.
She would say no at the party, to the booze and to the sex,
to the boy who said 'he loved her, ' who ran away, and now's her ex.
For she's lonely and she's tired, and her baby's not all fun,
oh how she wish she'd listened, to the warning words of Mum.
Her life is all mapped out now, or so at least it seems.
and the future that she once had planned, will just remain as dreams.

But maybe one day she'll wake up, and realise all's not lost,
and look upon her baby boy, as a treasure not a cross.
Then with drive and true ambition, she can forge a life that's true,
now ask yourself a question, .....

Heath Gunn

User Rating: 5,0 / 5 ( 2 votes ) 4

Comments (4)

For christsake, the poem is terrible actually as i have to see it as apoem that is great nice one Luwi
This is rather a very true depiction of one of the modern days dilemma that many females conceive during their teenage either by their own will with numbness overwhelming them and they fail to realize the side effects they would possibly face in future or the second reason is more dominant in developing states where illiteracy forces the women to have babies in teenage......and obviously the teenage gets stagnant with such activity leading to mental impairment of a female for she fails to recognize the lively experience at that particular age. Then parity at teenage is injurious to health of the mother and the baby..........a true depiction of a realy problem faced by many countries.......
very nice poem i really understand the story behide it it show how teenage pergancy my look glomorece but is realyy sucks
wowwwwwwww such a lovely poem Heath you talk of her sitting and watching Oprah I doubt she has time for that too must be only doing nappy washing and sterilizing bottles. I loved your poem --simply wonderful and nice eye opener for young teenage mothers tobe certainly A+++++++ and many 10sssssssss anjali