A Chore Poem by Garret Raja

I lay here, waiting, yet again
For the time when we must begin
Another round of the same old game
Of making love, yet feeling no flame

It used to be so magical, so sweet
But now it's just a task to complete
Every cycle, every ovulation time
We must do it, or lose our prime

We've tried so hard, for three long years
But still no baby, no cries or cheers
And every month, I feel more defeated
As if my body's simply depleted


But now it's become a chore, a duty
Something we do, with no real beauty
And even as we hold each other tight
I can't help but feel, something's not right

I long for the days when it was easy
When we didn't have to try, or feel so queasy
When we could just be, without the pressure
Of trying to conceive, at every measure

But until then, we'll keep on trying
And hope that someday, we'll hear a crying
Little baby, in our arms at last
And all this pain, will be a thing of the past.