Is It Poetry
Babies Made Female Or Male - Poem by Is It Poetry
babies made female or male or
some other thing,
made by you.
you may easily be that other thing
that was never meant to see,
the sun shine down on you.
it is entirely up to you now
and no one else,
it's left to you and you,
you remembered how and now.
a baby waiting growing, needing to know.
things of ignorance,
the apple falling not far from the tree.
does every tree make an apple?
does every apple, bring forth a tree.
under the microscope,
all seeing and knowing and nearly so.
being filled more often and long ago
having Eaton from the tree.
though the tree is sappy and fruity
sweet and juicy.
it is but the first,
a choice of many as to where will
you! bank your money.
must the vault be always full with it.
as is with the sap and receptive
and being kept with it.
thus the tree or rose begins to grow.
the tree may die become ill, simply be
a harmed tree it's self,
unlike and different than those sent to
and many prisons now are full as well.
the bank keeps track of all accounts
opened or closed.
being woman with the womb now filled.
as you now must be,
accepting each and every deposit.
there need be no prophetic 'Quatrain's
or drawn out day's of long terror.
because being filled you are but waiting.
as with the cell phone
and as with the black berry and computer.
you may now deliver you, from your self.
and when it comes and visiting each of
you, it is not when you know but it will.
being full and willing and much to able to.
being hungry and each we all will do.
kind of 'Tree' or 'Rose' to be will you grow.
fodder for cannons and prisons or
just damaged beyond the banks accounts
as you being filled know the world must be
filled as well.
and having this knowledge it expands as well
to all the other places, you know must be filled
and in the keeping with such, to be kept, close
and full and around it to dwell upon, there after.
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