The babe born in the cradle
Exposed to the melody
Of the mother's lullabies
This privilege of childhood is mine
The youth that blooms
From the bud of innocence
And the droplets of blood
Flowing in his nerves are mine
In this world of selfish relations
The sting of grief
That makes my heart bleed
Is mine
The unhealing wounds of worry are mine
The scattered and shattered entity
In storm of relations is mine
But
I am nobody of anybody.
