Conkers
Horse chestnuts and long sticks scattered around
where children ,balancing along a wall
had tried their best to bring the conkers down,
since it was not yet time for them to fall.
Some shells were slightly open, and inside
lay nuts that caught the sun, a gleaming white,
impatient kids using their thumbnails prised
the shell apart to find a fruit unripe.
These youngsters grow old way before their time,
exposed to influence beyond their years,
not maturing slowly to reach their prime
their childish minds burdened with adult fears.
Depression, self-harm and anxiety,
from images of perfection instilled
by social media and on the TV
fast forward through their childhoods, unfulfilled.
How many with sad futures? Who can tell,
unripened lives lived in their broken shells.
Copyright © Viv Wigley | Year Posted 2020
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