Poem – Am I A Whore?

I have two sons,
by two different moms,
we’re friends, it’s all good,
my parents are well to do,
God said, eat fruits and make me a lot of babies!
it’s not happening,
and my babies are lined up around the block in heaven,
‘i want to be born!’
‘me!’

what do i do?
i hear my kids crying to be born,
God’s commands stand,
morality says no,no,no…
so many lady friends 40 and single,
never to know the bliss of marriage,
though sometimes short-lived,
never to taste the sweet of a little child?
that’s Injustice,

what do i do?

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