the "adults" are talking.
they whisper.
do they whisper about me?

why do they feel they must talk in hushed tones,
like waves afraid to meet the shore.

don't they remember what it's like,
to be young,
to be fresh,
to be fun.

they act like another species,
but why are they afraid of their own?

we are not foreigners.

curiosity builds bridges.
fear burns them.