Mommy's Little Mess

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Lyrical adjunct to Daddy Issues.

To find that we’ve come upon

The procreative age

Then faced with the confusion

Of just how to engage

Of who to engage with

And how far it will go

Until one has gone there

One really cannot know

So we stumble onward

Social pressure from our peers

The demands of the body

Spreading joy for souvenirs

Our social engineering

Shows us all how to behave

The Bio contribution

At the orifice you gave

To give is to receive then

Some gifts are hard to take

To some a sacrament

To most a big mistake

Mad self-perpetuation

Seen to curse more than to bless

It’s a sticky situation

With mommy’s little mess

Periodically

She’ll succumb to distress

But can we really blame her

For mommy’s little mess

Girls are taught to nurture

While boys are trained to slaughter

The neutering of nature

The programmed son or daughter

Boys equipped with weapons

And girls bestowed with dolls

A world of lifeless babies

When repellant nature calls

Toy guns become real ones

Dolls, babies needing food

Demand attentions constantly

Not just when in the mood

Colossal commitment

Offer one life for another

Boys with daddy issues

Make little girls into mother

The puerile intellect

Unburdened with much doubt

Little boys can’t kill them fast

As little girls pop ‘em out

The penetrative process

As we spin out of control

Where we start we end up

Fascinated with the hole

To Doctor Phil or Oprah

She’ll feel she can confess

Yet neither one will help her

Through mommy’s little mess

Baby mommy thought

She’d have a better run

That making littler hers or hims

Would somehow be more fun

But babies are expensive

As those from where they spawn

And bringing home the bacon

It’s hard too: carrion

Becomes so hard to make doo

With no food as the foundation

Baby mommy’s big concern

Boy daddy’s masturbation

With conflicted affections

And budget limitations

Overwrought families succumb

To society’s predations

Find that just to go along

Seems the easy thing to do

Difficult to swallow biting

Off more than you can chew

Even hardened steel

Snaps under enough stress

It’s more than just blood pressure

Defining mommy’s little mess

Discouraging how often

We find that no means yes

With no one there to clean up

It’s mommy’s little mess

Mommy didn’t opt for rough sex

To be pushed and to be shoved

Didn’t really need a baby

She just wanted to be loved

 

                                                © 2012

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