I sit here in this computer chair,
the cool Frosty on my bottom lip.
Yet, here I sit, my eyes in a glare,
as my world sinks like a ship.
A cocaine-addicted woman had given birth,
to a pitiful and pathetic and putrid person.
My screams echo out to be put into earth,
I wish to know why my pain continues to worsen.
Everyday I imagine,
why I had to be her child.
Maybe out there I had a twin,
and she was never reviled.
We could trade lives with another,
if but only for a single day.
I could be free of my mother,
and be on my life's way.
So here I sit in this room,
eating my Frosty with delight.
If only I was never in her womb,
maybe my anger would never ignite.
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