"Looking at Childhood

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by Topher Bank A man and a woman Are one; Their child Is one. As every minute passes Minute indications expose Desperate attempts to reach out – A small part of this puzzling pantomime. Among the downy dolls, The only motion seen is From the limbs of a baby. Such acts of splendor Are unacknowledged pieces Of an intricate project. Cherished moments are preserved In a memorial of pictures, Creating time-lapsed youth. But these precious moments Are pondered as marvels until Muddled by the growing masses, And what was once considered innocent Will be the seed for blossoming ignorance If lessons to be learned have not been. And though nature has formed an oasis, This pristine body cannot stay so forever Only those most remote from the civilized May avoid pollutants, corruption. And, thus, we say, “The bark will soon be stripped From this dear wild oak tree; Its core chipped away, And conformed by machine.” But not yet empty of an unbiased drive, A child, with traces of insight, Learns that reason is its fuel. The future is over the horizon. A dark ball of fire or an eternal light? The fork is drawing near. Heaven; Hell - Which one draws nearer? Time will only tell this never-ending dream What is willed to come true. Content and its context Coalesce to form One reality.

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