Nicholas

By
More by this author
Trudging into the hospital room,
I breath the sterile air.
Why am I hear, of all places?

I stomp to my seat and sit down in a huff,
I know why we're here.
As I stare at the floor,
I hope to blend in with the chair.
I don't want to be here.
I don't want to see a baby.
Why me?

A baby is being pushed into my arms,
But I don't care.
Why should I even look his way?

I clutch him with a weak grip,
He goes by Nicholas.
"Nicholas." I wonder.
"Nicholas." I say.

The name echoes in my head,
It creeps into my thoughts.
For a moment,
he's all I can think about.

I'm not happy about him,
You can tell.
I'm fuming.

I furrow my brow in thought,
Then I look up.

Anticipation fills the air.

"Let's go Daddy." I say.
As if I have somewhere to be.
I stomp out of the room,
Down the stairs,
Running to the car,
Tears in my eyes.

Why do I have to share MY parents?
I was here first.

We're on our way home,
The soft purr of the car's engine,
Drowning out the radio,
So I can think.
And I do.

"Nicholas," I whisper softly.
"Maybe."





Post a Comment

Be the first to comment on this article!

bRealTime banner ad on the left side
Site Feedback