The Conscious Child
Twinkling through the traumas of thoughtful life
I feel like a child wishing that mother's meeting
BAG and biscuits will only be mine
And as my hollow portion.
Yet my small mind's eye rejects wishfully
My siblings presence aiming to drag all
And run away while my fear for cane pull me
Back to calmness as desire and hunger becomes
My rivalry So i wished again i had become
A teenager but no gravity of hope
Could boost my growth nor the fertilizers of Imagination can change my height
As i sit duly in childly assumptions
Beside my mother to learn togetherness
Of family habits With her usual sayings of together we build but united we stand as an ant hill of time....
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