Literature
Through the eyes of a child
I wished I could see the world
through the eyes of a child again.
Amazed, I would gasp at cars passing by,
shake hands with scruffy vagrants,
and hurry to reach the pot of gold
at the end of the rainbow.
I would take the world for what it is;
convinced that there is a purpose
to each, and everyone, and everything,
and that the warming smile of the morning sun
is all that I will ever need in life.
I would dance around the muddy freckles
soft rain paints on dusty ground,
believing that it is the face of earth
that reaches puberty.
I would love without limits.
Oblivious to the painful sting of unrequited love,
my heart will be a hearth
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