The Foetus

Oh! Now I know the cruelty of man Who leads and kills by his own bad hand, And enjoys himself in such a game. Friend, truly his life is very lame. As I speak, I am just a month old, But ma wants to leave me in the cold. Many a concoction has she drunk To have me killed as if I were wrong. Despite my age in my mother’s womb I know that I am quite in a tomb, And quite well acquainted with man’s sin More than an adult knows hardly seen. How I weep as I have been deformed! How I wish that the world be informed Of my mum’s sin and lascivity, And her many thoughts calamity! Now I weep, and weep for my young life, If I will be strong to stand and strive As another concoction flows in, Bringing with it a shower of man’s sin.