Nature is my mother, my father man,
together or apart my life in their hands.
Each owns thought shape my being,
deciding, deciding, am I ready yet?
To face the world and reflect it’s thoughts.
Why am I here? Who am I? What is this box?
Never knowing the answer, but seeing through my soul.
How do they know? Why can they see me? Will I ever be told?
Then they decide who I will finally be.
Whether to hurt or protect? We shall finally see.
But I warn you,
before,
you decide that you can,
define me, refine me, change me by hand.
That I am you and you are me,
and without due care,
you might untimely see,
us shatter.
Dec 27, 2013
Dec 27, 2013 at 9:41 AM UTC
Nature is my mother, my father man,
together or apart my life in their hands.
Each owns thought shape my being,
deciding, deciding, am I ready yet?
To face the world and reflect it’s thoughts.
Why am I here? Who am I? What is this box?
Never knowing the answer, but seeing through my soul.
How do they know? Why can they see me? Will I ever be told?
Then they decide who I will finally be.
Whether to hurt or protect? We shall finally see.
But I warn you,
before,
you decide that you can,
define me, refine me, change me by hand.
That I am you and you are me,
and without due care,
you might untimely see,
us shatter.
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