When you think about it, toddlers are kamikaze survivalists.
Until You Are a Synonym
What a contract to enter into!
Between birth, and the age of two,
To become a perfect facsimile,
Become, in fact, a simile
Of everything you ever knew.
Like wet cement, you sit supine
As people scrawl their broad designs
Of everything they’ve met before,
And you become a metaphor
Of anything they had in mind.
Bewildered, calm, but, yes, compliant
With no idea of what you’ve signed.
The sins of her, the sins of him,
Until you are a synonym,
And so secure your own survival.