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First Light.
//-start of poem-\\
It’s dark, it’s wet, it’s tight.
I need to see the light.
I’m mad, I’m squeezed, I’m red.
This mess is causing dread.
I’m hurt, I’m pinched, I’m late.
Will it be worth the wait?
I scream, I shriek, I cry.
A light is in my eye.
They tap, they prod, they poke.
Is this some sort of joke?
It starts, it’s life, it’s here.
Why are they all so near?
They kiss, they hug, they hold.
(I’m only one hour old...)
\\-end of poem-//
by > Roamoff
composed Jun 2006.
submitted 28 Jun 2006.
Copyright © Jun 2006 by Roamoff.
First Light.
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I love my daughter, Shannon, more than anything in the world. I wasn't there for most of her early childhood and teenage years. I wish I could have been there for her. She has inspired most of my best poetry. See all of those poems > here.
I really like infants and toddlers. Since I was very young, I have been very good around them. I seem to be able to understand exactly what a young child needs and I seem to be able to communicate with them. I'm better at it than any other person I have been around (including women). This ability has inspired several poems. See my > biography (near the end, I list some of the poems in this genre).
I will write a personalized poem just for you. Go to > Purchase, Services (Services from Poet Roamoff) to see how to order one (and how to provide information I will use to write the poem).
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