Come. And be my baby

The highway is full of big cars
going nowhere fast
And folks is smoking anything that'll burn
Some people wrap their lives around a cocktail glass
And you sit wondering
where you're going to turn.
I got it.
Come. And be my baby.

Some prophets say the world is gonna end
      tomorrow
But others say we've got a week or two
The paper is full of every kind of blooming horror
And you sit wondering
What you're gonna do.
I got it.
Come. And be my baby.


______
ANGELOU, Maya. Come. And be my baby. In: BARBER, Laura (org). Penguin's poems for love. London: Penguin, 2009. p. 102.