My First Birthday


On the 5th day of April

Seventy-seven years ago,

I was born.

I took my first breath.

I had shut my eyes against the light,

And did not see anything in that darkness;

I didn’t know where I was and why.

Soon, I was crying aloud,

To clear my throat and lungs.

I was hungry,

I received a wash and a soft rubdown,

Then after a brief suckle fell asleep.

As though from faraway

I heard someone joyfully announce

My arrival;

I had arrived in this world of work and stress.


This poem is about: 
Our world


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