My life turned over
though I did not know it, then
as a little boy
yes, a three-year old
with my first memory, thrust
into the trauma
life with my family
offered a creative, shy
introverted child
in this world, react
defensively, or respond
to events, a toy
found by a stranger
leads to the need to let go
or remain attached
even though, the mind
of a child lacks perspective
and context, drama
transforms consciousness
before the first memory
a felt sense, still wild
until repression
acts through civilization
to destroy gestalt
realize the mind
in all clarity, later
transcendent, detached
now, as an old man
it is too late to begin
much too old to try
eclipsed by the shame
of alcoholism, funny
how arbitrary
decisions decide
when and to whom one is born
I no longer cry
over memories
childhood misspent in error
nothing so scary
versions of the truth
all hidden within each lie
it is no one's fault
even I know this
no one chooses their birthright
but from this we learn
remember to burn
the candle at both ends, friends
lest you live to yearn
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