The Existential Dilemma of a Foetus

I am an egg

Ready to hatch

I have no home

Nowhere to run off to

No one wants me

I am the ugly ducklin’

I don’t believe to have a swan in me.

I am incomplete

I know

Premature, I guess

Yet extremely sensible

On the verge of boring

Ouch

That hurt

Be true to myself

Or just continue being me

Avoiding chance

It’s safer that way

But I won’t be happier

If that means anything

To you

I assume not

I desperately am in need of…

Something

What I am not

What I don’t have

Hatch or not Hatch

That is the question