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<div style="background:#fff;border:#bbb dashed 1px;padding:5px"><a href="http://www.citatepedia.com/comments.php?id=477188" style="color:#000;text-decoration:none"><div style="margin:10px 0"><strong>Specters</strong></div><div style="margin:10px 0"><a href="http://www.citatepedia.com/comments.php?id=477188" style="color:#000;text-decoration:none">What is the architecture of a life? <br>Not the bricks and mortar of cells, <br>The branches of arteries and veins, <br>Sinews, muscles or bone that made you.......<br>The gene machine. <br>The big bang with which every life begins.<br>I am grateful to the sperm donor; <br>To the warm wet nest that nurtured me, <br>Until the time I made my first appearance.<br>It is the only time you have centre stage, <br>The star.<br>For me though there were no loving arms<br>Gentle words, <br>Lullaby, <br>Having made me, the two principles left<br>Exit stage right.<br>They sadly could not stick around, <br>To mess me up or be of any influence, <br>But they made me, gave me life<br>The architects if not the builders, <br>That was left to kinder hands.<br>So why are always specters at my feast? </a></div><div style="margin:10px 0"><a href="http://www.citatepedia.com/comments.php?id=477188" style="color:#000;text-decoration:none">P H Brookes Copyright 2011</a></div><div style="margin:10px 0"><br /></a><a href="http://poems.citatepedia.com/">poem</a> by <strong><a rel="author" href="http://authors.citatepedia.com/by.php?a=Paul+Brookes">Paul Brookes</a></strong></div>

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