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    poetry


    dots Submission Name: The Wombdots
    --------------------------------------------------------





    Author: Apocalyptica
    Elite Ratio:    6.41 - 79/66/10
    Words: 157
    Class/Type: Poetry/Venting
    Total Views: 849
    Average Vote:    No vote yet.
    Bytes: 1073



    Description:
       Written 9/1/04, to a loveless mother.


    Make the font bigger!! Double Spacing Back to recent posts.

    dotsThe Wombdots
    -------------------------------------------


    Cold, dark
    I cannot see, I cannot move
    I am trapped;
    This is my maternal prison cell.
    The umbilical cord;
    A chain, binding me to the wall
    Of this God-forsaken place.
    Confined, I kick
    I scream silent screams
    Never to be heard;
    It does not care.

    I am alone; I am sheltered,
    “Safe” from the outside world.
    I wonder, is this life?
    I am a hostage of this thing.
    It feeds me, it protects me
    But that is all;
    Nourishment through material objects.

    I hear, but only echoes,
    A mother’s tearful regret;
    I am a mistake,
    A burden, A parasite
    Living off of her
    With nothing to repay
    The debt of life.
    Freedom; I know this word.
    I can feel it.
    There is something beyond this place;
    I must escape to embrace it.

    Cold, Dark
    Helpless, I wait.
    My chance will come,
    For life is calling
    From outside The Womb.

    ~FIN~




    Submitted on 2005-01-19 13:49:50     Terms of Service / Copyright Rules
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    ||| Comments |||
      I like this kind of other picture of how a baby might feel inside its mother. "I cannot see, I cannot move
    I am trapped;
    This is my maternal prison cell.
    The umbilical cord;
    A chain, binding me to the wall"
    Very good. I hope this wasn't based around you, as for you my parents made it rather clear that I wasn't wanted. Keep up the writing! I'm miss reading you if you go to join the army, but such is life, if you have to you have to. Have a good one!
    | Posted on 2005-02-01 00:00:00 | by TDALBH | [ Reply to This ]
      I am a mistake,
    A burden, A parasite
    Living off of her
    With nothing to repay
    The debt of life.
    Freedom; I know this word.
    I can feel it.
    There is something beyond this place;
    I must escape to embrace it.

    Cold, Dark
    Helpless, I wait.
    My chance will come,
    For life is calling
    From outside The Womb.

    I don't think tht it is a deep anger like T0rn said but I think its this distant saddness for not being able to be accept to be acceptable to her. Listening to foresaken sobs can have a bad effect on a child. I don't think this is anger I think that you feel regret...or maybe this isn't even about you...I don't know.
    | Posted on 2005-01-22 00:00:00 | by Brwnsknsam05 | [ Reply to This ]
      this is sad. no child should ever feel unwanted and unloved. this is an interesting take, the perspective of the baby inside the womb, knowing that they are unwanted. i do believe that babies take in what goes on around them outside the womb, so a child would probably instinctively know if they were wanted or not.

    just sad. i'm sorry that this is you. wish i could share my mom with you, 'cause she rocks.
    | Posted on 2005-01-19 00:00:00 | by magnicat | [ Reply to This ]
      This is different to your other work. Does your mother really think that you are a mistake and regret having you? If she does I am so sorry. I can't say on this one I can relate cause although I feel like they do sometimes regret having me I know deep down that they don't. So I am really sorry if your mother feels this way and if it is any consolation(however you spell that) I don't think that you were a mistake and she shouldn't regret bringing you into this world. You are probablt the best thing that she has ever done. I would have been lost a couple of times if you weren't here and that is the honest to god truth. Younhave helped me so much by being there for me to talk to you.
    | Posted on 2005-01-19 00:00:00 | by ForsakenAngel | [ Reply to This ]


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