Just Little Children

So young, so naive

not tortured by life

thoughts of flying

and dreaming

without being haunted

by thoughts of

dying or leaving

living so freely

in a garden full of roses

the air around them

is misty but they

are playing with the

posses

their desires are a

long list of endless

things

and they identify as

just little children

Making stories of

heroes and villains

it's like a tethered tale

waiting to be read

and its endless

yet no one knows

where it began or can

it start over again

or can it be rewritten

so it can be more mild

and all the characters

would go wild

isn't that how you'd

describe something

written by a child

And someone else,

a little more wise would

review and think of it as a travesty or, if blessed

could become more happy after reading their stories

The world will think they are just little children

being unknown to their

way of thinking

So deprived of the

meaning of living

but my, elders

want to bow at their

wishful thinking

They don't realize

how liberalized they are

being just little children

yet in their own ways

more civilized than we are

It can be that their

mistakes are more fatal

but unlike the elders

they would be less brutal

It may be that they would cause more harm

but unlike the elders

it wont be too dark

Looking at the sun

they'd want to run

Oh, they are just little children it's all about having fun

They carve out a way

bring light on the

gloomiest day

without asking for a

reward they bring

a feeling of awe,

they smile at just being

acknowledged

They don't know about

the life in collage

but they know how to

make a home out of a little toy cottage

They lead others into their rooms, showing their artwork with hope

you might think they are jerks, but they are just little children

ever thought when they get irked?