From the Mother’s Womb to an Unknown Place

One dies, another  comes. Souls leave, where do they go. No one can say for sure. But when the baby deer, baby baby comes, we know where they go: right to their mother’s breasts.

And life is a circle,  a world wind circle. One day with your mother, the next out in the cold looking for a stranger to make you happy.
It’s not an easy life but a good life, no matter how rich or poor. I said once: damn the rich, damn them for they know not, not the beauty and the courage to be poor.
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