Fuss

There’s been a lot of muttering,

and many wide smiles.

They think I don’t know.

But I do. It’s just a natural

function, what’s all the fuss.

We’ve all got to be born,

somehow. My brother

isn’t thinking of the noise,

the smells. They are both

dreamy unreal people.

It is slightly silly.

Father is going to have

something very mean to say.

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