To Carry a Child

To carry the child into adult life
Is good? I say it is not.
To carry the child into adult life
Is to be handicapped.

The child in adult life is defenseless
And, if he is grown up, knows it,
And the grownup looks at the childish part
And despises it.

The child, too, despises the clever grownup,
The man-of-the-world, the frozen,
For the child has the tears alive on his cheeks,
And the man has none of them,

As the child has colors, and the man sees no
Colors or anything,
Being easy only in things of the mind;
The child is easy in feeling—

Easy in feeling, easily excessive,
And, in excess, powerful,
For instance, if you do not speak to the child,
He will make trouble.

You would say the man had the upper hand
Of the child (if a child survive),
But I say the child has fingers of strength
To strangle the man alive.

Oh, it is not happy, it is never happy,
To carry the child into adulthood.
Let children lie down before full growth
And die in their infanthood,
And be guilty of no one’s blood.

Stevie Smith