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Oct 4
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the wee little ones cry out loudest
fearful of being dying unnoticed
for they're not the stoutest
or profoundest

“we’re always among the forgot,
for we come so quick, oft left to rot,
as you street walk in the early morn
composing on and on and on

and our
sweet little rhymes, smaller than a dime,
oft arrive as twins or even triplets,
so fast and so furious,
they go unwitnessed
so we can’t be recalled,
stillbirthed, unborn,

therefore
we’ve decided to take you hostage,
treatied with your leggings,
no home return permitting
!
until we are recorded,
and given up for adoption”


P. S.
how do ya like them shorties now?
a true story
“ no, he never returned, and his fate is still unknown”
5:00am
Nat Lipstadt
Written by
Nat Lipstadt  M/nyc
(M/nyc)   
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