Prayer Before Birth-Louis MacNeice

This is one of my favorite poems ever!The poet uses the image of a child(a representation of the future generation)expressing his fear about being born into a world
where the human race is so savage as is portrayed in the poem.It shows how humans are born innocent and are corrupted
in their lives here.Birth is used as a metaphor for the awakening into the ways of the world.
It can be viewed as a prayer to God or humanity-an appeal  for a worthwhile and natural life free from the threats of terror,
pretentiousness,conformity,barriers,loss of individuality,a world scourged by pollution,manipulation,etc...
I hope you like it..
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I am not yet born; O hear me.
Let not the bloodsucking bat or the rat or the stoat or the
   club-footed ghoul come near me.

I am not yet born, console me.
I fear that the human race may with tall walls wall me,
   with strong drugs dope me, with wise lies lure me,
      on black racks rack me, in blood-baths roll me.

I am not yet born; provide me
With water to dandle me, grass to grow for me, trees to talk
   to me, sky to sing to me, birds and a white light
      in the back of my mind to guide me.

I am not yet born; forgive me
For the sins that in me the world shall commit, my words
   when they speak me, my thoughts when they think me,
      my treason engendered by traitors beyond me,
         my life when they murder by means of my
            hands, my death when they live me.

I am not yet born; rehearse me
In the parts I must play and the cues I must take when
   old men lecture me, bureaucrats hector me, mountains
      frown at me, lovers laugh at me, the white
          waves call me to folly and the desert calls
            me to doom and the beggar refuses
               my gift and my children curse me.

I am not yet born; O hear me,
Let not the man who is beast or who thinks he is God
   come near me.

I am not yet born; O fill me
With strength against those who would freeze my
   humanity, would dragoon me into a lethal automaton,
      would make me a cog in a machine, a thing with
         one face, a thing, and against all those
            who would dissipate my entirety, would
               blow me like thistledown hither and
                  thither or hither and thither
                     like water held in the
                        hands would spill me.

Let them not make me a stone and let them not spill me.
Otherwise kill me.