I remember when your little hands
tended my hair, a blonde that I was
I nestled in your lap, watching you
You used to sing me a lullaby
and put me to sleep.
In the morning you changed my clothes
bathed me with tender hands
and decided on my next attire.
Ah! the intricacies of joy
How those days slipped off in
carefree laughter,
private talks
and mindless gossips
life was worth living every moment.

Now I lie in the flawed garden of youth,
a prisoner of time
suffocating under your new found ego
nurtured by your negligence
as mature shades of lipstick
taint those innocent lips.