Nineteen Seventy

1970

On a cold winters eve,
A child tiny and helpless was propelled onto the planet,
Agonising was the plight of birth.
The child lay dormant,
To the walls of her cave she clung
The canal below was dark and unwelcoming.
In the distance,
Faint noises were looming.
First appearance, they urged.

"But something strange disturbed my slumber,
A violent tapping at the door of my penthouse
The time has been determined
Fate is in their hands,
Piercing,
the sounds resonate through my small structure.
Metal forks, sharp and relentless,
With a vengeance they poked at my hips that lay sleeping,
With a force I cry out,
Dazed and still weary,
To the light I am thrust,
without a moments notice,
Confused and frightened
of the abyss below,
Without a choice I must surrender to my journey.
My head hit the bottom with a furious thud,
I struggled and pushed as the shaft began to crush me,
With gasping breath,
My heart racing and pounding.

As if from nowhere two hands released my confinement,
Blinded by white, my eyes opened slowly,
Numerous faces, infinite chaos
The ordeal is over and life shakes my hand,
All this exertion
Please put me down,
Depleted of strength, consumed by exhaustion
Wait Mother,
There is something not right,
There is not the presence of a Father before me,
Lost and abandoned I started to choke,
and suddenly so pointless my existence would seem".