Part 1
The time continues to tick away,
And I lay still, like a
Parasite concealed.
A lustful promise of what is to come.
I am a product of an untimely
Barrage and burden of emotion.
Tender and timid,
I bounce between the walls of a cold uterus.
Blind-speechless
And pending my arrival.
My arrival is near to the relief of my host,
To which I am intertwined with by
Biological complexities,
Simple parasitism.
There is movement and I am displaced,
And a realization befalls me,
I am only effort, and effort is error.
I am pushed hard.
And there is light.
And there are faces.
And I know,
I am doomed.
The solemnity of birth is beyond words where a life starts in the world. beautiful creative talent and nice poem.
I am pushed hard. And there is light. And their are faces. And I know, I am doomed.... nice words but on negative note....10 love to live with one mission think always of guilt admission but beware of future ahead you are born to lead
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
The title intrigued me. I wondered at what age your speaker would write his first letter to Self. But I wasn't expecting it would be the nine-month fetus. But you make it work for your purpose which is to show the difficulty of living a human life - and that is the challenge of our existence - to be more than nature, to be human nature, you could one step further and say, to be humane nature. Ironically, once born, the little thing cannot share in the joy all of these people are sharing. The closing of your poem expresses the theme directly, fully, memorably: AND I KNOW I'M DOOMED. (Little guy, don't despair. There will be many good days too.)