Poem: Child Like
Running toward the swings,
wanting to fly high, and touch the clouds,
sticking my fingers deep into the fluffiness,
but only in my mind.
Behind the disguise and far enough away,
the texture feels different,
I'm not sure if my body will follow my legs,
and sail through the air
like freedom at last, freedom at long last.
If I should fall onto my knees,
and roll to the side to pretend I'm okay,
but knowing it hurts because the scraps remind
me the bruises from before,
and help will show itself at night.
Whether my parents put on band-aids or not,
thinking plastic will help me sleep,
telling me the monsters can't appear anymore
in this whacky world,
I know things they don't know.
Feeling safe enough for me to sneak into
another kind of freedom,
one my parents can't ever find out,
reaching a status unlike no one has ever seen,
running back to the swings to do it all over again,
as they are not in charge.
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