Treading lightly on the damp sod,
Tender young feet squish and wiggle
In the mud by the flowerbed.
Dwarfed fingers feel the tips of velvet petals
And giggle at their texture.
Flowers sway sleepily,
Tossing pollen into the children's eyes
And motioning them to their sides.
Night is upon us, they say,
The day's travail has ended.
It is time for wild, unimaginable tales to be told.
Listen closely, and you too shall hear them
If you can live in a child's world for a moment again.
Bleak future, forewarning past.
How long will your life last, solitary dove?
Senseless ideals, gruesome goals.
Antagonists try to cage you,
But your convictions are too strong.
And may they grow each dawn.
My fortress implies fear,
The chain-linked fences, the barbed wire,
The alarms, the double locks.
Unpleasant experiences condition me, adapt me,
To my new and better world?
Making me sensitive,
Freezing at every noise.
I'm becoming a rabbit,
Nervously sniffing the air for a premonition.
Optimism is becoming extinct.
Scrupulous in every sense,
Her pastime was spent tidying, fixing
Thriving toward perfection.
For her, work was play.
How convenient having the two combined.
Furthermore, it was understandable.
Her goals were many and uncertain.
An archeologist or a zoologist,
Which would it be?
She never could decide,
So she taught the masses
Of poverty-stricken people
Better methods to yield more food.
She would have rather been buried, I'm sure,
Void of a coffin,
So that her body might more naturally and more quickly decompose,
And be recycled
For she had willed her nitrogen to the soil.
Brilliantly flames the captured sun as it curses me
From behind its sheet of mail armor.
Its evil demeanor is easy to forget
And soon only its warm rays reach my cheeks
Making my eyes droop lower and lower
Until finally I lie sleeping happily and squirming cozily
Beneath my quilt.
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