They spread their legs hoping for love,

What they get is an unwanted kid.

"I’m not the father

You are a whore."

The words spoken often from a man that’s scorned.

The baby, now an "it"

Names make "it" real

He, the naive man, "it wasn’t my sperm",

The underlined truth, "I hate you so I hate your kid."

A greedy man for sex, is a cheap man of love.

Let "it" survive on your salary, I got a babe for mine.

The small empty mouth cries for food

Crying for their daddy who left way to soon.

At conception

Conceived by two, I was left by one,

Fearing she will leave me too,

I cry and scream, insecure in the world,

Doomed from the start,


I will make my success with mommy alone.


Michelle Poet

July 6, 2001