Life- 1. What Makes Me Be Poem by Mary Mc Creath

What makes me be?

From parents two,
I came to be.
Their life gave,
life to me.
I fed on food and grew and grew.
I fed on kindness,
trust and hope,
and grew to be.
I fed on fear,
and apprehension,
and knew,
What I was not,
and shrank from being.

My table rich with food was laid,
My wardrobe filled with clothes,
but starved was I for want of love,
Ah!
Words!
Kind words!
Oh!
Where are those who say them.

My being dies for want of these,
though richly it is fed and
warmly clothed,
I shiver still for want of warmth,
of beings just like me.

Written in 1977