When I glance at wooden crates
I think of rocking horses where the children would cradle their worries away.
When I see scraps of cardboard
I think of forts and collages wiped from the face of the Earth.
When, I blitz past a mall
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I think of children who laugh, so joyous, whilst playing ball.
When I look to the sky, I see kites of all sizes, each a magnificent shade that pops and screams to the eye that I have a drive, a will, and a dream.
And when I see her eyes, I think of too many toys parting, saying goodbye.
And when I see her, each porous inch of skin dwelling on something I long for; I only see the things I could never see for I was blinded by my misery.
And I hope that there are children like you reading this
For we never grow into adults, we just grow into tall children with too many responsibilities.