Ill Conceived [CTPWC]

My foolish words
wag their crooked fingers at me.
My pride cowers
like a frightened child.

I'm afraid to look with my eyes,
afraid to own my lies.
Once I conceived them
they developed a life of their own.

Unruly children,
they embarrass me.
They call me father
and demand to be fed.

I am forced to clothe them,
while they strip me
and expose my nakedness.

Why did I ever give them birth
and speak them into existence?
Better to have been stillborn
and never seen the light of day.