I watch my mother weep and realize I can't do anything about it.
She screams.
Please don't cry.
All of a sudden I am no longer eight years old.
I am fully grown.
And you are gone.
I am not blinded by my innocence.
My eyes have opened and not enjoyed what they see.
A man's stench begs for a hot shower he would trade his life for.
Another child starves since their family can't afford food.
Another grave stone is put into the cemetery
And the family grieves.
If I could go back though, I don't know if I would.
'Cause I would rather not be blinded,
Than have my innocence.