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The tiny fetus that had been robbed of its life shouldn’t know regret for not ever living it, but certainly its murderers should know of it for its sake and their conscience.

One of the most treasured ingredients of the earliest part of life is in the lack of the full knowledge of it. It is an ingredient that feels like mist over the head of a blind man, who senses its thick moist presence but doesn’t determine it by sight.

FIRST PAIN

When I felt it happen too;
Like I heard and saw it too.
I died that day that I knew;
I was just me and not new.
Then alive I sprout out again;
Living as all do, after their first pain.

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The child learns to be his own person as he ages and develops his own ability to endure life at first and its worries next. But when he gets accustomed to enduring life and learns to numb out most of the sorrow he feels in it, he then acknowledges that living thrives out of form, if it discards its ordered laws and professes its rebelling need for rules. Otherwise that early instant knowledge of life and its subtleties would render a child hapless to a situation it hasn’t as yet mastered and make life appear pointless from a very early age. Just like a shooting star sighted from earth appears to hit no target, life will appear to serve no purpose but only serve a steadily distressing experience by all logical human estimation.

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YOUNG AGAIN

You are only young once,
Blossomed to take your chance;
To scent the world’s spring
With the fruit kinds you bring

the poet in the poet - Copy
The poet in the poem
https://www.smashwords.com/books/view/451309
http://www.amazon.com/dp/B00SLWGOMM
http://authl.it/B00SLWGOMM
https://www.createspace.com/5195332

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