Stunted

I was born crying, as most are
I've, as most have, come far
I've grown teeth, lost them, and grown them again
I have good luck and bad, sometimes lose and sometimes win
I learned to hobble, crawl, and walk
Learned to read, write, and talk
I've grown in every which way
I've had to go and had to stay
I've made mistakes, like everyone
I've had too much and not enough fun
But one thing hasn't changed since I was born
Something people do when they're happy, sad, or torn
Something I probably won't grow out of until I die
And that is my inability not to cry