A child's beauty is the innate instinct,
To differentiate between right and wrong, good and bad,
Without any question or malicious thoughts polluting their minds.
Old is wise but set in mind,
Youth is like a white sheet of canvas,
Waiting for life's doors to answer to their knocks,
"Where will it lead us?" is etched the powerful question they ask .
Children ask questions,
Children make remarks,
Children say anything on their minds,
Until they make me laugh out loud in spontaneous enjoyment.
Tra la la la la la,
They do this in class,
Why do pigs roll in the mud, cher?
Are you married, cher?
Will you come to my birthday party?
I had a bad day today,
This is my best friend,
This is my enemy.
I like you,
Don't like you,
They say it out loud,
To people's faces.
It is sad when we grow up,
And have to act and not always be ourselves,
Perhaps those who grew up faster,
Are sadder still,
No happy memories,
No sweet childhood.
Nay to fake images,
Yea to the real self.
Adult life is here to stay,
And one has to move on.
When we knock on the door,
And have been dealt life's knocks,
One learns more,
More smart and shrewd.
Hopefully the child in us will always stay,
When we as adults walk on the path beyond the doors,
To wherever we want to go,
On life's exciting journey.