We all, especially them
The artists and romantics
Try to capture the wonder
Entrap the awe, hope, innocence
Of childhood, once known
Its simplicity!
Why do we crave and hate it?
We complicate, willingly
The nature of adulthood
Never allowing restful respite
From the chaotic fear always changing
Entrap the awe, hope, innocence
The despair!
Why do we create and hate it?
We create misery
Taking the delight of a child
And mocking that which we love
Destroying all we want to have
Suppress the awe, hope, innocence
Its convolution!
Why do we scorn and hate it?
We are eager
To engage in this trap
Children yearning to be grown
Losing all to independence
Kill the awe, hope, innocence
The murder!
Why do we perpetuate and hate it?
About the Creator
Brontide
I do not think, therefore I am not
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