See how she sits in her high chair,
Obedient child to the last,
See how she sups up her porridge,
Flavoured with history past.
See how she spits out the spoonful,
Proferred by patronage hand,
See how she picks up her own now,
Infancy making a stand.
See how she learns from endeavour,
As natural an act as can be,
See how she grows to an adult,
Independent, self-nourished and free.
See how some children, retarded
By parents who will not let go,
Develop arrested behaviours,
Damaged by some who don’t know
That nothing is worth being stuck there,
Harnessed in chair like a child.
It breaks under pressure from fairy tales,
Sometimes we’re born to be wild.
Wild as the woad on our faces
When history wrote out our path,
But timing is now, and with courage,
Freedom not given, we grasp
The spoon from the parent who knows not
A whit of development’s way.
Our children are free as a nation, come
September 18th, ‘Yes!’, Independence Day.
scottishmomus 