The babies in their cribs cry for their mother’s breast,
Reliant on others in and outside the womb
For safety, nurturing, nourishing, and loving.
Now they are toddlers, beginning to talk and walk
In semi control of their world, danger stalks.
It seems a death wish descends, will do anything, their little lives to end.
They spy the electricity power that calls,
And totter unsteadily to cables plugged in walls.
Pulling on live wire, babes rescued at the eleventh hour.
Mesmerised by an open fire that beckons,
Bubbling boiling pots on stoves their handles to hold.
Exploring anything that can kill, bite or sting, despite warnings of everything.
Every pool of water, they want to fling themselves in.
Holes in the ground, stairs up or down,
Dirt on the floor, the dogs dinner too, goes into the mouth without more ado.
Later, fights and throwing fireworks with their friends.
Finding guns and lethal weapons is the name of the game,
And disregarding the green cross code, on the way home.
The older they get, the urge to self destruct increases,
Unprotected sex, dirty needles, VD and aids they are facing,
That’s without alcohol and other substances they themselves are abusing.
Nature protects us as much as she can.
But the strong desire to dance with danger, taking chances.
I wonder if it’s natures way of culling numbers.