Poor Infant

I refuse, refuse to weaken my will, adhered here to glue to these
neglected sheets, stranded on, abandoned on my own two feet, tenants of
occupants of indifferent streets. Oh poor infant, you only took an
instant, but now you're soaking in it, you're in for quite a ride, my
poor little flopping on the griddle, still bloody in the middle.
Conjuring, coaxing out my bravest face, suffer through, carreen through
rooms of tired eyes, whining high, like an engine fed on spite, too much
to take, too much luck, I dump the clutch every time. Through the womb,
into this mess with me, it was no accident I had to have some company,
through the membrane out you came, reluctantly sure, I bore you
selflessly, but I had to have some company, company, company, company.