The Shortest Story - Harry Chapin

I am born today, the sun burns its promise in my eyes;

Mama strikes me and I draw a breath and cry

Above me a cloud softly tumbles through the sky;

I am glad to be alive

It is my seventh day, I taste the hunger and I cry;

My brother and sister cling to Mama’s side

She squeezes her breast, but it has nothing to provide;

Someone weeps, I fall asleep

It is twenty days today, Mama does not hold me anymore;

I open my mouth but I am too weak to cry

Above me a bird slowly crawls across the sky;

Why is there nothing now to do but die?