The Self
ever since the day we are born
a baby's cry.
perception of possessions - let your air in through my window
and also, your toys belong to me.
from the confines of our neurotic fortress
we place our bets on the benefits of befriending others.
just part of the collective unconsciousness
thinking only about rest and mother's milk.
and until the day we die
a baby's cry.
poem by Chris Jelens
Added by Poetry Lover
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