A new baby blanket was given to the family from the hospital, Warm and fresh, wrapped tightly around the body of a newborn, Woven with many simple patterns, Full of color, familiar with the innocence of new life. Years later the fabric was ripped, There were holes scattered among the blanket, It was dirty and the color had dulled. The attic door opens, revealing the newborn, now an adult, She grasps the torn fabric, reminiscing her days of youth and fun. Oh how she wished life would still stay new and simple.