I can’t remember
how I came to be a child
midst of darkness and frolic
and the mazes of childhood
roaming paths unknown to many
yet knowing the world will care.
Hand outstretched, I plead
say- to be or not to be
feel free to ask of me a favor
but none too big to accomplish
beyond my reach, my tender brain
my immature soul and loving embrace.
Flowers have been my companions
to create a wonderful simulation
yes, a world of my own, a lie
is what I crave to live in
and grow up in, far from
rules and taunts, just to be what I am.
Never very special, yet loved, I know
but did not before. I cried tears
till dry eyes gave way to angry words
and neither did I repent
should I? I ask, and why?
No care for tears, why for family?
Glowering at unfair praise, to rivals
fits I threw many, no one understood
as to why, little child, were you a nuisance
not the sweet angel that children can never be?
they ask, and I have no reply
I just cry, and they stare, as if children don’t cry.
And they can say as much as they can
but will I listen? maybe not
but all I know is they have no right to make
me listen, if they did not listen to me
and understand my pain, before
asking for my help with their troubles.
I will love, every creation must
but, will I be wrong as always ?
I think not, they have no right
to control my emotion as well
just because I am a child, an I not
live free, and be bound by duty?
I will lie, yes, and not care for ones
who pushed me out of where I belonged
my age, was not my decision
then why be punished for it?
punishment, sure as I am a bird
will never last long.
But words will bond, be drilled
into hearts of fame; beloved
children will hate the world for
making their decisions
uttering their words, and
changing the world from the original.