You are like a child
who grows younger
& younger
every day,
smoothing over lines
with the sharp -cracks- of a smile,
& swaying
back & forth,
back & forth
like the swing
in an overgrown backyard,
like the child who sits
(lonely)
on that swing
& grows backwards,
(backwards)
you regress further
with every moment.
You are like the hair that grows
from the head of the child,
?wild?
& unruly
& never the same.
Like their small, chubby fingers,
you are clumsy,
s t u m b l i n g around a dark world
that offers you
no rest
from your actions,
(& yet)
unlike a small child
who is more clever,
quieter
& observing
each moment in life,
(learning,
growing
by leaps & b o u n d s , showing
that there is hope yet for them
in our adult world,)
you cannot seem to learn
from the mistakes you make.
Each error leads to another;
like a child,
you are running in a circle,
forever chasing a butterfly
that has lost its wings.
Your toys lie
scattered around you,
abandoned,
dusty,
-cracked-
& broken.
Like a child,
you grow tired
of the same old routine,
the people you see
& the games they make you play,
(day after day.)
Moment after moment
after unplanned moment
you grow younger
until one day
you will be an infant,
unspeaking.
& then
you will be
wailing & wishing
you could grow older
& make it all up to me.
Oct 11, 2012
Oct 11, 2012 at 12:49 AM UTC
You are like a child
who grows younger
& younger
every day,
smoothing over lines
with the sharp -cracks- of a smile,
& swaying
back & forth,
back & forth
like the swing
in an overgrown backyard,
like the child who sits
(lonely)
on that swing
& grows backwards,
(backwards)
you regress further
with every moment.
You are like the hair that grows
from the head of the child,
?wild?
& unruly
& never the same.
Like their small, chubby fingers,
you are clumsy,
s t u m b l i n g around a dark world
that offers you
no rest
from your actions,
(& yet)
unlike a small child
who is more clever,
quieter
& observing
each moment in life,
(learning,
growing
by leaps & b o u n d s , showing
that there is hope yet for them
in our adult world,)
you cannot seem to learn
from the mistakes you make.
Each error leads to another;
like a child,
you are running in a circle,
forever chasing a butterfly
that has lost its wings.
Your toys lie
scattered around you,
abandoned,
dusty,
-cracked-
& broken.
Like a child,
you grow tired
of the same old routine,
the people you see
& the games they make you play,
(day after day.)
Moment after moment
after unplanned moment
you grow younger
until one day
you will be an infant,
unspeaking.
& then
you will be
wailing & wishing
you could grow older
& make it all up to me.
sometimes people don't change
