as a child he never plucked the wings off flies
he didn't tie tin cans to cats' tails
or lock beetles in matchboxes
or stomp anthills
he grew up
and all those things were done to him
I was at his bedside when he died
he said read me a poem
about the sun and the sea
about nuclear reactors and satellites
about the greatness of humanity
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Comments1Nazim Hikmet's got a way with words, eh? That line "he grew up and all those things were done to him" hit me hard, man. It's like life's a cruel irony. Cool poem though.