Poem: Porsche’s Rant

Mothers, do you agree? Child raising
Isn’t as easy as it seems to be?
Of course, I don’t expect you to answer yes –
Not with your littlies in front of you, I guess.
And all of you, without a doubt,
Wanted to have children to run about,
Get underfoot, to nag and whinge
In that annoying way that makes you cringe.
And secretly you gnash your teeth
And wish they were six-feet beneath.
But they cuddle you, and look real cute,
And then your guilt gives you the boot.
“How sinful I am to think that way!”
And that gives you strength to face the day.
But not I. I have no maternal yearnings.

I didn’t enjoy my youthful life, other
Kids my age gave me strife;
My father’s frowns, my mother’s greed;
This all formed to be the seed
That was planted in my barren field,
My life without children would be my yield.
I was happy with this philosophy
Do as I please, no kids to bother me.
I met a man, sweet, gentle and kind
Creative and caring, strong of mind,
We dated, he wooed me, afternoons delighted.
I feel in love, our souls united.
But the idiot whom I now disparage
Never told me he had children from a previous marriage.
Given the first chance, his children I’ll be spurning.

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