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Ten tiny fingers
and
ten tiny toes.
All of which
I will carve,
and grind,
and mash
into this mold
that had been prepared
when you were just an idea.
A ray of hope.
A meaning of life.
A tiny,
vulnerable
egg.

You only know me,
therefore I am all that is.
My beliefs will become yours.
You will in turn become me,
except greater.
And I will expect nothing less.
You can not fail
because I have failed.
And you are perfect.
And you will be always,
because I have crafted you
from dirt.
And when you slip
I will remind you
what you are -
dirt.

— The End —