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The Eclectic Pen - Growing Up

By: Alan (arkrebel) -   + 24 more  
Date Submitted: 2/21/2007
Genre: Literature & Fiction » Poetry
Words: 423

  Growing Up

I saw the children crying in the street the other day,
I asked them, "did you lose a friend or a pet that ran away?"
And looking in their eyes I saw the steely glint of pain,
The kind the tears can't wash away to make them shine again.

No, something so much more was lost than playmates can replace,
Something that ran deeper than the tears upon their face.
A kind of soulful sadness that disguises tender years,
Then turns the world to shadow gray when hopes turn into fears.

They never saw me standing there, or heard the questions asked,
Their world was far removed from mine, though clear as crystal glass.
A world where I had once belonged so many years ago,
Another life, another place, a dream I used to know.

Where tender roots had grown so fast, then died before my eyes,
Where brickless walls were built before I even realized
That something changed and life was not the dream it used to be,
When Santa Clause forgot to come, no gifts beneath the tree.

When Mother Goose had run away and left no tracks behind,
And all that I'd been searching for just got too hard to find.
When life became a game I played with rules that made no sense,
The day the blindness left my eyes, along with innocence.

The children cried for every child, who had no place to stay,
Whose parents had neglected them, or simply ran away.
For children who were hungry or could barely spell their names,
For every child who never felt the warmth of family flames.

In all their sad remembrance of the way it used to be,
They cried for how it should have been, but now can never be.
The moments lost are gone for good, and now they're left alone,
But is it any worse than being in a broken home?

Where angry thoughts are quick to come, and love is just a word,
And words don't seem so mighty when your back's against the sword.
Where mothers don't come home at night and dads are far away,
But when they meet the war is on, a vicious game they play.

The only prisoner taken is the innocence of youth,
And lying in the wreckage are the remnants of the truth
That smiles can't always hide the pain that eats you up inside,
And hide and seek is not much fun when there's no place left to hide.

They cried for you, they cried for me, and maybe for themselves,
And wondered why their world had just become a living hell.
When growing up had suddenly become a thing they had to do,
As childhood died a tragic death, in silence, way too soon.

The Eclectic Pen » All Stories by Alan (arkrebel) -

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Claudia (BrokenWing) - 2/21/2007 8:43 AM ET
IONE L. (zaneygraylady) - 2/21/2007 12:33 PM ET
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