The Diaper’s Paradox, Part IBefore we came to be, our lots were cast,
With each of us assigned a role to play.
We all shall see our lives go by too fast,
And so we must adore each precious day.
A lowly diaper, I—produced to be
Ephemera strapped to a baby’s tush—
No doubt a calling with integrity,
Yet all too soon unwanted, filled with moosh.
But, O—to be a pair of underwear,
With hip cartoons that make me well adored!
To last for months or years until I tear,
Or maybe as a keepsake safely stored.
Instead I must endure this low estate:
An hour or two of use shall be my fate.