Simplicity at birth
No lies, no prejudice
Only purity of soul
Learning through innocent eyes
Giving only honesty
Freely smiling
an environment it will later define
A definition ever-changing
Trust to mistrust
Blind love to focused hate
A child becomes us
Who are we?
What have we become?
Do we love as infants?
Has our growth changed our soul?
Or does that childish purity still exist in the shadows of the distant hearts and minds shrugged off in the name of maturity?
All redeeming and cherished traits are ours to lose from birth to death
In death is memory born to regret?
is that last breath so different from the first?
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