The Unborn Baby

Do you remember being stuck in the womb?
Not knowing that outside is a world of gloom,
Stuck in a small surrounding bubble,
Not knowing of all the outside trouble,
Being there in darkness and not seeing very much,
Reaching out before you trying to clutch,
But nothing is there and you are on your own,
And every now and then you hear something from the unknown,
You try to think of it, but nothing can compare,
To your hands and feet which have developed as a pair,
You move them around you, above and below,
You rest your head on a soft pillow,
But forty weeks are up and it is time to be born,
Outside of this womb you will see the new dawn,
But it is a long way down and you will soon see the light,
Then you will know the difference between day and night.

by Sally-Ann McDuff

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