They toddle.
It's a phase.
Each used to crawl.
They watch and try and
master how to climb.
A little more they'll learn
with every fall.
Soon each will run.
They'll speak in their own time.
They bite.
Get bitten.
It's a phase.
We pick one teacher to observe,
intrude, prevent.
Once Mouth was all and
minds are quick.
Complex emotions
words must represent.
The bitten need words too.
So much to say and then
to learn to listen
to what's said.
I'm full of feelings
I would wish away.
I bite.
But now I bite myself, instead.
Where are the arms
to hold me and appeal?
'Nope.
Use your words.
Speak out!
Say how you feel.”
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
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