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I have seen the face, of a newborn child,
The pride of a mother, and the joy of a father.
Nine months of preparation,from the point of conception,
To enter this world,with a glorious reception.
Compliments, support, and the warm smiles that greet,
The child is the center, of his newfound universe,
A smile and a burp, so simple is his entire feat,
he is surrounded by fans, and a mother to nurse,
...and the child wonders...
'I know how it feels, to be in the same place,
To watch the world around, and know not what it means.
Everything is nothing, for I know not what they are,
A bird a tree, are but images with no meaning.
I see this for hours in a day, yet what is time?
The feeling in my stomach tells me when to eat.
My tired eyes put me to sleep
I am king and prisoner, both in one.
A burden to all and it makes them happy.
I am in transit.
But from where and to where
I am nothing and yet, I am everything'
I watch the child grow, from a crawl to a walk,
He explores his world, intrigued with his sensation.
With familiarity and association, he starts to talk,
He jouneys outwards, from his world of imagination.
The experiences are many, varied and complex
He changes in shape, and adapts his mind.
Like the attraction, of an endless vortex
He is obsessed, with what he will find
The years go past, and the child is but a deception
I see a man and in his hand; a newborn.
Filled with excitement, in the hospital reception
He ponders in silence, has he been reborn.
A father he is, the responsibilities are greater,
To provide the needs and to shelter from harm.
He smiles in silence, his heart beats faster,
He feels the love that he holds in his palm.
We spend a lifetime, in search of an answer,
Stretching ourself, to a new limit.
Aquisition and possesion, eating like cancer,
We become obsessed, a slave to it.
When we near the end, defeated by age,
We grasp for air, with failing health.
Leaving this world ,we remember the sage,
For when we go, We leave without wealth.
He leaves with a thought of what might have been,
His last picture of life, With a closing eye.
If only man, can see what he has seen,
He would just stop, and consolidate the "I"
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