Wednesday, February 5, 2014

Infant Sorrow




My mother groaned, my father wept: 
Into the dangerous world I leapt, 
Helpless, naked, piping loud, 
Like a fiend hid in a cloud. 

Struggling in my father’s hands, 
Striving against my swaddling bands, 
Bound and weary, I thought best 
To sulk upon my mother’s breast. 

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