In the sunny filled coziness of childhood,
is where he is still swaddled.
With his feet swinging from high chairs,
His face unblemished with worries,
Is where he still gurgles.
The comfort of his mother’s bosom,
the protection of his father’s shadow.
Under the approving eye of people
who correct his wrongs,
with murmurs of ascent
and coo at his antics.
Denial of a full grown man
Who refuses the guidance of the misery,
befalling other men,
Is what keeps him from
Leaving his parent’s home.

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