Stump Boy


First she screamed,
then she pooped, we-ed and farted
(It had been 9 hours since labour started)
She strained and pushed,
And pooped some more,
Then out he shot, past the doc
And onto the floor


They quickly scooped him up
Wiped off the slime,
And noticed, for the very first time
A nice round head, chubby little body,
Hideously loveable as babies can be
Adorable eyes and button nose
But no arms or legs could be seen.
Just some little bumps
Where they ought to have been.
They looked under the bed, the sheets and the bin
But the legs and arms they couldn’t find,
They even checked mom
to see if they’d been left behind


“Whats wrong?”

The doctor stammered, the doctor quivered
And shakily replied
I’m terribly sorry my dear lady,
But you’ve just given birth
To a thalidomide baby.
I may have been hasty
I could have been wrong,
I should have give you panadol all along
But the perks were great, the drug fantastic
Who would have known that it was teratogenic?


A decision was quietly reached
A prayer, a swift journey up to heaven
They wrapped poor stump boy up
Kissed him once
And tossed him into the dump.