My four year old writes better poetry than all of you , it's true .
In my child’s gwatchy babble, words are spun,
the secrets is joy, of play, and of fun.
Purity is not found in the chase or the climb,
But in the small, simple words that echo through time.
Hooshknee, we say, with a knowing glance,
Shows us the way to our happiest dance.
Let us not forget, as you craft and we mold,
That inspiration is fleeting, and life should be bold.
In the words that they speak, in the sounds that they make,
Lies a purity we often forsake.
For in the small things, the fun and the free,
We find the magic we long to see.
Like us, you really want to be free.
The realm of unfettered youth where words are toys for play,
Where sounds are shaped and colors do sway,
There came a day when her small voices rang,
Lifting through the skreegy that the world tried to hang.
Gwatchy, they called, with a wink and a cheer,
A word like a spark that the mind now holds dear
Coolish, neat, a burst of delight,
A dance in the brain for the depths of the night.
And from this dawn, from the chaos and cheer,
Came skreegy, a word that we hold so near
A mark of the messy, the fractured, the torn,
Hooshknee hearts unpolished, our souls reborn.
Oh, skreegy, they sang, with joy and with glee,
For not all that is broken fails to be free.
Then came Hooshknee, like a riddle in air,
A word that floats weightless, without a care,
A question unasked, a thought undefined,
A call to the unknown, a wonder confined.
Hooshknee, oh hoosh, a whisper so light,
A dance of indecision that ignites the rite.
We, the artists, toil with might,
Chasing lost purity’ but lost in the fight
rid the world’s skreegy grime and restore the lost gleam,
To craft art with dignity, to hold onto the dream.
But the clutter of bias, the weight of our strife,
Dim the beauty of play, and the joy of your life.
That's only a scratch as to why she's so much better. she would school you all, if you'd only let her.
For in your learned bias, we hinder our soul,
Chasing success, we lose the true whole.
For in striving to succeed, you forget how to live,
And we rob our own hearts of what they could give.
But in Gwatchy and skreegy, we find the true key Hoosh , hoosh hoosh with one more Hooshknee
In the mess of the world you all created we were meant to be free.
Especially a bright beautiful soul with an inner light like hers
Don't be hateful or jealous cause you let yours be poisoned and die
She is the light and the truth and doesn't even have to try.