Little do we realise that we too are wild animals Starting as children, crying for mothers milk Grabbing anything with our liitle fingers Pushing it in our mouths in case it is food
Then as we look around we are aware of others There is another child in the family Who looks at you strangely...you're the enemy For you have taken something precious from him
And so it was with me for my own brother hated me Five years later I finally understood Mother would encourage us "Go out to play" So we did and clearly he was in charge
We lived in the country and we walked in the woods and the fields As his plaything he would push me in the stream Or run off and hide from me laughing away As some of his friends in our street came along
I leant that the best thing to do was to just walk away Find my own friends who also lived in our street And so it was other boys who were my age Invited me home to play...so I survived
Illustration found at www.pixabay.com
