Some kids play sports, some kids cry,
all I did was ask “Why, why, why?”
All my nights were vivid dreams,
All my days I played by streams.
*
Some kids did physical activity,
but I was stuck in thought-captivity.
Playing with forms and stories in my brain,
no one ever built brakes on my thought-train.
The society outside was neat, organized,
everything fits into a box and gets analyzed.
Inside me was an invisible place of genesis,
unformed mind-stuff, nescience, and desires endless.
To me, the mission of all adults seemed to be:
make my soul like the society outside me,
something labelled, boxed, with rational utility.
But why? I couldn’t understand this mad futility.
I resisted this with all of my might,
something about it just never seemed right.
They wanted to transform me into an adult -
But tired misery seemed to be their result.
But punishment is a persuasive teacher.
I ceased being an innocent, chaotic creature.
I took on the guise of the diligent student,
and subjugated enjoyment to being prudent.
I rebelled silently in the imaginary
the space behind my eyes was my sanctuary
But I couldn’t blur the world into a lie for long
soon reality would face me sternly and strong.
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