Babies

Babies are a "treasure",
And I'm glad you catch my drift,
I'll have to change it's diapers,
And receive it's little "gifts".
Babies are a "blessing",
Who cry and whine and scream,
The baby is so quiet!
Oh wait, it's just a dream.
Babies often spit on you,
I've learned that the hard way,
I used to need as raincoat,
To avoid the gentle spray.
They leave you often sleepless,
With bags under your eyes.
A babies favorite things to do,
Are to whine and poop and cry.
This poem shows my feelings,
I think it might have rabies!
I guess this poem truely shows,
That I love babies!