Infertility

Be kinder to the tree, they say Don’t poke or prod or cut at it Don’t try to break its branches Don’t run up to attack it Be kinder to the fish, they say Be gentle with the guppies If caught just let it swim away Don’t try and fish for copies Be kinder to the little guy Be softer, like a mother I know you’re meant for it, they say Helped raise your younger brother Oh but I won’t, Oh but I can’t Don’t want to live the horrors I choose to not participate To not hand out disorders Pass down our long-lived misery Pass down all of our karma I choose to be a butterfly Not trapped in my own armor And now my future is in halves Two choices on the table To birth a child, or to not I choose to not be able