Babysitting In The Daylight Poem by Madison Massarello

I hesitate at the shiny blue and gold toys gracefully haunting the carpet.
Their tiny feet quickly caress the hushed floors.
I do not want this.

But I spot a man, a woman and their two children perched in the intricate isles of the local market.
We are the customer.

We buy our lives in everlasting class and elegance.
I do not want this.
But marry the PhDs,
nothing below a Bachelor!
I can't see.

I cannot fathom following the dense footprints of those before me.
A ring to signify the delicate concept of love?
Shall I dedicate my life to the hysterical conditions that create a tantalizing border around my skull?
The doorbell rings,
O! But it is time to me to go.