Sometimes I wonder, I wonder where they Sprouted from. I wonder Whether they were moulded or Fabricated to add up to the Created. I mean no mischief here. But I need answers to my dilemma. In marvel I marry their complex Being with their careful but senseless actions.
Sometimes I wonder If their actions stem from Immaturity or something unnamed. They appear to be babies With grown teeth Demanding pampering and Worship. Anything short of These is a mark of insensitivity. Their nature exemplifies thorns and roses delicately intertwined.
Whoever created them, You did well. Just a manual would Have placated our endless predicaments. You left a puzzle to push us To our witsí end, blanks to Fill in the gaps. But you see, I still hear your gentle breath whispering, ĎIn wisdom, abide with them.í And for this Iím grateful.