Pebbles and trinkets,
bubbles and blankets though momentary they are precious, so also are neonates.
Fidgeting with fire,
meddling in mom's closet and getting cained in a bath tub shortly
afterwards, define a toddler's ambition.
Hard drugs and changing girlfriends, masturbations and dealing with guns, becomes the youngster's goal.
The neonate becomes The toddler becomes The tween becomes The teenager and he becomes gawky adult and soon the rest is forgotten before he can finish growing up.
But if the hand writing had been a little clearer on the wall then maybe he would have slowed down a bit, all thats left are tears for a lost soul.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem