Baby In A Sandbox

As I sat in the sand by the swings
I couldn't help pondering
the meaning of life,
or the mundane purpose of my existence.

And then I saw a bug.

It was a curious sensation
as it withered
to and fro
within the bounds of the toothless cavity
on my face,

But like the Germans at Stalingrad,
thwarted again.
The advancing giant wrenched it from my mouth
yawping in that foreign babble.

As my face started to leak,
my screams echoed
across the playground.

More giants turned to look,
what was the matter?
Until one picked me up and patted my back.

It was comforting.

Overtaken by a notion of calm and still
I relaxed,
embracing the comfort of its bosom.

Until from within
I sensed a wrong,
an eruption from within
yearning to be out.

As my voice carried further and further
louder and louder,
the giant continued to pat,
now,
not so comforting.

I tried telling the giant several times,
for it failed to realize
the intensions of my actions,
as it stood there
holding me,
patting away.

I decided to change my tactics,
making my face deranged;
turning me over
it finally realized,
all I needed
was my diaper changed.