Helpless
The clock ticks slowly
As the sunlight peers into the room
Innocent and helpless
Not far removed from the womb
Unaware, yet troubled
Strong are the instinctual drives
There’s a compulsion to live
And a irresistible urge not to die
Innate are the are the longings
The prerequisite are the needs
The true quality of the crop
Is contingent on the nurturing of the seeds
The clock ticks slowly
As the darkness peers into the room
Innocent and helpless
Not far removed from the womb
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