In Short Bursts (18th February 2006)
Poem By Sarah Capella Smith
I didn’t want to be born,
You told me;
I was safe and warm in your womb,
Your versatile bed;
A thin sheet of skin my linen.
I was born a hot ruby, in the element of fire.
Was I crying?
Surly I must have been crying.
Crying like Shakespeare asked me to.
I needed love like
I needed air to breathe, my flat lungs
Weren’t opposed to taking it all in.
The summer sun gave me
A welcome that mid-August 1988.
Now all I ever ask for is a welcome.
But I never get one.
I am a baby, not a box.