There is something beautiful,
About the way humans grow;
It's extraordinary,
How we have such capacities to know.
From a single cell,
The creation begins,
Then birth throws us,
Into this great world,
That our families tell us is our oyster.
We have that world,
Wrapped around our podgy little finger,
Since day one.
We just don't know about it,
Until we have our own sons,
And realise that we had the potential,
To make something of ourselves.
Out of the errors and the brilliances,
Of the human race,
The biggest brilliance,
Is surely seeing your sons face.
Because you sit there,
Him in your arms,
And tell him,
That the world is his oyster,
Passing down the trade,
For generations,
Until the world has gone,
And no longer,
Can the deed be done.
YOU ARE READING
Book of poems
PoetryThis is basically going to be a book of any poems that I somehow manage to create in between writing my book, enjoy! I hope you can comment your interpretations of the poems and we can start a discussion on them:)
