Born again.

When we are born
We are fragile
Innocent
Lost
Soft
Broken
And gasping for comprehension.

Soon we learn to build a shell around our conscience
And form a place we call home
We forget that we are allowed to be lost and confused
And that we cannot always be who we pretend to be

As we move on we learn to take pleasure in the smallest of things
As they are the most important.
Keep dreaming we tell ourselves.
Keep dreaming.

And then we die
And we become lost
Broken
Fragile
Innocent
As blackness consumes us
Slowly and surely
We are children once again
As we are born into death.