I thought it'd be easy, taking home this small bundle of joy. I thought I would fall in love with him and care for him like he was something real. He didn't make a sound until after six. Didn't make one single peek and I overlooked things, I didn't think about what would happen the whole weekend.
When he cried I didn't know what to do, I was worried and I was scared. I picked him up and I held him and I cared for him. Soon, I was better at it and I didn't think it was so bad.
I could do it.
I went to bed and had to wake up several times throughout the night. It was awful. I was tired, drained, exhausted. I just wanted to sleep,
and sleep,
and sleep.
I felt like I couldn't do anything anymore,
I felt like my whole life had changed in just one moment,
I felt like I was living a bad dream that would never end.
The next night, I heard a cry and I woke up into the darkness. The clock read 3:11 a.m. in red letters. I turned on the light and I got up.
I don't really think of him as a small bundle of joy anymore.
Author notes
Last weekend I had to bring home one of those babies for parenting class and it was so tiring and exhausting. Babies are hard work and I'm sure real ones are even harder to take care of. I'm too young to handle all that kind of responsibility, but it really was a good experience, I think.
The funny thing is, I used to want a baby. Not that I'd really go out there and try and get one, but that I thought babies were so cute that I never really thought about how hard it was to take care of one.
This isn't a very good poem though, sorry.
A contest entry
- honestly by emma....
3200 points, ended November 8, 41 entries
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Comments
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i think this is more than a good poem; i never would have guessed that this was something you wrote from fiction. it seemed so realistic to me; great write! good luck in the contest!
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