When Every Thing Was New Poem by Paul C. Maybury Jr.

When every thing was new,
fresh and bright,
colors and sound,
smells sweet and sour,
milk and talcum powder,
when every thing was new.

When every thing was new.
The one face,
the kind hands,
bringing warmth and fullness,
cleaning and soothing,
when every thing was new.

Too soon the sharp sounds,
the uncomprehended laughter,
loud and fierce.
Other faces not the one,
sleep disturbed by dreams and cries.
Thoughts begin and wondering whys.
Oh, everything was new!