Letter to my first-born

    You might want to read first Louis MacNeice's “Prayer Before Birth”.   Now you might want to come out.   You must want to, for this story sake.   Here, cry, baby, cry — take all this love you can get.   Emotionally charged, you can then fully use your intellect.   You will find those seeking for love, attention, a pat on the back.   They will drain you out if their batteries fail to generate.   Walk away as if it was too soon, never late.   Consume not your vital energy with hate.   Rebel against your own certitude, play the flute.    Exercise daily your right to be alive.   And if they kill you, do die.   Read me your own letter before I’m gone.   And one last favour: ppt not this line.