Best Lifebaby Poems


An Interview With a Homeless Man

I asked a homeless man I met one day,
If the recession we’re in is what caused him to be this way.
He looked me straight in the eye and told the things he had done,
Once upon a time he said I had everything, I was quite the lucky one.

Beautiful wife, a baby girl, a lovely home, and two new cars,
Then I started messing up and spending most of my free time lounging in the bars.
I worked hard for what I had and I didn’t see how this would hurt anyone,
Just  a few drinks, all I wanted was to unwind and have a little fun.

I never once took into consideration how my wife might feel,
She hid her feelings till I came home late one night to an empty house and realized that I
had messed up this deal.
I had become a full fledged drunk and I didn’t even know,
That bottled had taken over and wouldn’t let go.

That happened over ten years ago and I haven’t seen my wife or baby girl since,
From riches to rags, just a no good drunk, a vagabond prince.
No the recession was not my downfall, I have to take credit for that,
My biggest worry these days is where my next drink is at.

Truth be known most like me have let either drugs or booze take total control,
They’ve sold or lost everything they’ve ever had, and some have even sold their very own soul.
There are a few that have fallen on hard times but they usually manage to get back on
their feet.
But ones like me will spend the rest of our lives as homeless on the streets.

Baby Steps

Baby steps are small steps,
steps with little feet.
Baby steps are new steps,
taken slowly.

Baby steps are nervous,
cautious and clumsy.
But baby steps are critical,
baby steps are key.

Baby steps for freedom,
Baby steps for speech,
Baby steps for progress,
Baby steps for peace.

Anything is possible,
with baby steps, you'll see.

-For baby steps, while small, in sense,
begin a great journey.

Mom Sorry

I was 16 and he was 21.
It was a one night thing,
And was done in the spur of the moment,
I was drinking a little he was not.
I was late and he decided to run.
I was left telling my parents alone. 
While he ran around some more,
What was I to do?
 I was searching for the courage to tell someone.
I was scared and just another teenage statistic.
How did I get myself into this awful mess?
Now I need to make a life changing decision.
I can't even drive. Man I'm screwed this time.
Do I abort the baby now while it is an egg?
I know I can't give it the future it deserves.
Do I keep the baby and own up to my mistakes?
A lot of people find the courage within them selves to stay around.
I am 16 and made one bad call, now I must pay for the rest of my life
No matter what I decide. 
Mom dad I made a mistake, 
I am sorry!
Don't be mad!
It wasn't meant to happen like this.
I am pregnant and don't know what to do?
Mom I need you! 
As her parents replied we will get by.



"Teenage pregnancy" contest



In 2000, the total number of teen pregnancies in the United States was 821,810 (84
pregnancies per 1,000 people) Pregnancy Info.net
© Cory Long  Create an image from this poem.


Baby

Something so precios and deligate,
but something people just throw it away.
How could you ever kill an innocent baby? 
If you didn't want this,  then why do you open your legs???
It's your own fault.
I hope you have nightmares of that beautiful little baby.
You didn't even let the baby take one breath of air.
You decided to take it the easy way,
and kill it right then and there...






*Note: I understand if you were a rape victim and got pregnant, but if you killed a baby for 
no reason, just because you had sex then thats wrong.. I believe everything i stated in this 
poem..

Updates

So I have still yet to write a letter to my jailed older brother
The baby that I was worried about grew up and is extremely adorable
He is walking and talking and I believe Jesus touched him some how
I could have sworn he was a goner at the baby shower 
when his mama joined in on happy hour.

I guess maybe because I prayed for him to be alright. 
He turned out better than we all imagined, at one 
he can almost say and understand anything.   
Now that I've gotten to hold him I hate to watch him leave. 

His mom she'd rather party and we all doubt she really cares.
And Christmas morning I ignored a phone call from my brother.
He was calling for the cell. Does that make me terrible that I still 
have no words for him? For all you guys who are just tuning in 
refer to my previous poems to fully understand. 

I know life is about giving second chances 
but when I watch my nephew run into my arms 
I wonder what kind of chances he will have. 
He deserves the world, and a chance 
to grow up normal. These are my updates 
for today I'll see how I feel tomorrow.

The Other Side of the Fence

Let me take you to a place where you are sentenced to learn,
And your deepest emotions are no ones concern.
Your head & face are shaved to a clean gleam,
And the only thing on your mind are freedom dreams.

No different color clothes, no different color mothers,
All you have now are white uniforms on cell mate brothers.
Your first day in you're mugged with strange looks,
By people who do constant push ups & read books.

You close your eyes & pray that it's a dream & you're in a coma,
Until you open them again to see & smell the prison aroma.
Your be is no longer a king or queen not even a twin,
But a 5'9 mattress & the width of a baby pen.

Your world no longer revolves around cars,money, sex & power,
But letters filled with love & visits from free world flowers.
Your emotions turn into metal to become stronger in this horrible thrilla,
As you & others are on a mission to turn skinny men into baby gorillas.

Through this period of time you have no one you can lean on,
So you fall to your knees & scream Jesus! please help me be strong.
In this type of world you can't have it your way,
So whatever lands on your tray is the meal of the day.

Breakfast,lunch & dinner is served at early hours,
No more private rooms no more private showers.
As day turns into night your stomach begins to grumble,
Your hoping a loved sends a few dollars to drop it to at least a mumble.

On one side you can get by with looks & charm,
On the other side you need Jesus & muscles to survive on a prison farm.
For those who've never been take heed & use good common sense,
Because you don't want to know what it's like on the other side of the fence!


Yesterday

There was pain like glass going through fresh new born skin.
It was in and out and out and in again. Like an outlet you plugged yourself
Into me but I never felt the electricity. All that I felt was numbness. 
You always spoke in such circles, it was often so redundant. 
Like a baby learning to talk you kept repeating words like “I love you”. 
But you hid me away like you were ashamed, I felt like your diary.
And even though you’re gone I can still feel you tittering inside of me. 
She kicks hard on my newly rounded belly. 
And even though you hurt me I still melt inside like jelly just thinking of you.
This baby inside me grows bigger each day. 
I pace back in forward through my house searching like someone whose lose their keys. 
She will be searching for her father and I will be searching through yesterday.
The calendar blows in the wind. The Pages are turning years, month, memories, and the 
end.

New Baby

Your having a new baby soon,

to sing lullabyes to,

under a full moon,

to bring you lots of joy,

wheather it's  a baby girl,

or a baby boy,

to bring you lots of happiness,

and make many memories,

that you'll enjoy,

but just remember,

when it's a new baby your bringing in,

you can't do what you used to do,

it may put your life in a big ole tail spin,

and for a while be about ga ga and goo goo.

Far From Grace

Ancient Goddess
Ghetto voodoo mystic
Creole blood flows like Styx
Hair napped up and twisted
She’s different; so beautiful
But just another statistic
Once so smart and wild
now just another young mother to another doomed child
Just another baby momma now
Who hasn’t seen her baby daddy in a while
Once straight laced and on her way now deterred by faith
She’s 17 but looks twice her age
So young with worry lines on her face
Feels the world on her back
So heavy it weighs
Her spine…
It cracks
It breaks

Unplanned

Her energetically youthful joints bounce
To the beat
Her belly baby bump doesn't slow her down
She sings the lyrics of the Lord's love
Hiding her truth
To prevent his second murder
No blood on her hands
He'll spend time behind bars
And she'll build her life holding her daughter
Up to the sun
She'll marry
And live 
And her baby daughter, answered prayer,
Will share
Poetry with the world

But these women will still mourn
One in sorrow for her choice
And one in guilt for the life of a older sibling unled

And yet the baby girl loves God 
And freedom
Equally

How can she be pro choice?
She knows what it means to be

The Unborn

You have to be 21 to drink, 
you have to have a license to drive, 
you have to be 18 to serve your country, 
you don't need anything to bring a life into this world.

You don't have to be an adult, 
you don't need a license, 
you don't need anyone's permission, 
you don't even have to be in love.

You can be a good or bad parent,
you can be neglectful,
you can be hurtful,
you can choose not to have it.

You have a voice, 
you have a choice.
The baby doesn't have a voice, 
the baby doesn't have a choice.

What did that child do?
Did he or she choose you?
Does the baby have a say about anything?
No it doesn't.

So give it a chance to live, 
give it a chance to grow up, 
give it a chance to impress you, 
give it a chance to be the best thing that ever happened to you.
© Chris Matt  Create an image from this poem.

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