The night is young but painful,

And the day is short but futile.

On a particular morning I asked somebody,

“Excuse me, have you ever loved someone like a child?”

“I’m sorry?”

“I said, have you ever loved someone like a child?”

“How is that so?”

—

How is that so, I did not know.

A child could only ask for so much,

Cry for so much,

And understand so little.