Submit your work, meet writers and drop the ads. Become a member
Feb 2017
My past time
is drawing punnett squares;
measuring my chances at certain genes
measuring the maybe chances at babies.
constantly calculating 'could-have-beens'.

Though, not always certain,
I discover myself in the punnett squares
written in graphite
sprawled across my table.

99.9% chance of being normal,
and I got stuck at that .1.
I can go on,
drawing punnett squares on my arms
and legs
and stomach
and back.

Calculate
my chance
at being
DECENTLY FINE.

Now's not the time
to be drawing punnett squares
all over the place...

But what are my chaces
at a prettier face?

What were my chances at brown eyes
and carmel skin?

What were my chances,
where do I begin?

Punnett squares
excite me
because I see my
could-have-beens.

What are my chances
of finding
someone like me
identical in thought,
obsessed with
the past
and how we could-have-been

BETTER?

But we're not.

We're just a
punnett square.
andi
Written by
andi
2.3k
   Johnny Scarlotti
Please log in to view and add comments on poems