For my Unborn

Would they have my eyes?
Would they smile in
The same daft way
With a half bit lip
And slightly crooked teeth?

Would they lean against fences
While waiting for buses
Like bored teenagers
Even when they reach
Their 30s
And still look
Impatiently at the floor?

Would they think long and hard
About everything
And still stumble
Over ever word
Like I sometimes do?

Would they stay in the shadows
And look at me
With envy and then pity
Or would they just
Wait in the queue

And smile with a slightly
crooked smile?