Poem – How Would This Blind Child Know?

I was born the ordinary baby,
Always the centre of attention,
Adoring, endearing and bubbly,
Always enveloped in affection.

An active and perky 3-year-old,
As buzzing as a bee,
The fireman in the play, the overenthusiastic toddler,
Is who I came to be.

But time is erratic and volatile,
You never know what life has in store,
The future is inherently uncertain,
But how would this 6-year-old know?
Continue reading “Poem – How Would This Blind Child Know?”

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