Babies And More Poem by John Mccudden

A woman had a baby
No wait it was eight
Shock horror how long did it take

Mrs Smith said O what a cheek
She has more than there’s days in the week
How many boys how many girls
If she keeps going she could fill the world

Who is the father where is he
Don’t know they are conceived artificially
Who will pay for their upkeep?
More babies than days of the week

So what do we call eight babies?
Octuplets well that will do me

Kicking and screaming into the world
Six boys and then two girls

One by one the doctors count
One in hiding that’s the full amount
So I ask what you think
Why do people kick up such a stink?

It’s not for me to judge
A mother dose what she dose
So will you judge her now?
Or think of who what where and how