It never really begun I suggest,
Perhaps a child in time
I was born unwell, unfed, untrained
In all matters that matter in a world
Without instructions, without guide
Or printed manuals I was left to fear
All things, all times, in perpetuity.
It never really begun I suggest,
Perhaps the wind took hold
Of the sail she left behind,
Unknowingly or unwittingly
The whiff of love long lost
Was no anchor strong enough
To keep the dinghy from escaping.
It never really begun I suggest,
The child, the angry adolescent,
The man that grew out of no plant
And the old man contemplating,
Are all one and the same, the same
Thoughts and the same responses
To life and events best avoided.
