Blue Hearts 2k16 (My Collection of Poems And Short Stories)

Innocent

In the warm month of July.

There was a baby's cry.

Another being has been welcomed into this world.

Its parents embrace the fragile creature.

Wanting the best for it.

To live a life that was much easier,

Than theirs.

Years passed and the baby learned how to walk,

And eventually learned how to talk.

It never stopped.

It blabbered and blabbered.

It chirped and sang.

Soon it became quite annoying.

As it grew older.

It quickly realized that world was much colder.

It faced criticism.

And became less bolder.

Its words became less.

It came to understand that everything was a mess.

Others judged.

And soon Its confidence became smudged.

Became unclear.

It became scared.

It noticed that there was no hope anywhere.

Things that were once bright.

Now turned into ashes in fright.

Eventually the child lost its words.

Speechless at the world in front of Its eyes.

Everything was a lie.

It looked at everyone with a frown.

All that it believed in,

Came crashing down.

It shook and choked as It drowned.

It wanted someone.

But there was none.

It wanted to run.

Escape.

All of the fear and sadness that bottled together eventually formed into hate.

It hated everyone.

It hated the world.

It hated Itself.

Smiling soon became a chore.

Laughing became a bore.

Happiness made Its heart sore.

When It spoke of Its pain,

Others laughed at It and left.

None remained.

It tried to get back what It lost,

But it was in vain.

Soon people started to call It insane.

And they brought It to a shelter.

They said that it will help cure.

But It knew that they did this out of fear,

Not care.

Because why would this be a shelter,

If it looked like celler?

Why would It be happy if It was locked up,

And no one was to enter?

It became more angry.

Sometimes they forgot to feed It,

And It was left hungry.

It wanted to get out.

But realized that there was no one waiting.

No one wanted it.

Its heart began accelerating.

Why did It have to live like this?

Its time wasted in this place.

It was thrown out.

It was a disgrace.

It would never be able to show Its face.

It was ashamed.

But why was It the one blamed?

It cried out in pain.

For the innocent was slain.

It was accused of wrongdoing.

While the real criminal was still moving.

Everything was ruined.

It begged for mercy,

Begged for the people to see,

That It was normal.

It wasn't crazy.

That the real culprit were the liars,

The cheaters,

The thieves that took Its life away.

The ones who treated It like scum.

The ones who destroyed It,

Was them.

"The precious child is no longer present."

Is what was written on the wall.

No one knew what it meant.

Until they walked in the dark room.

And then they saw the doom.

They saw It.

Its laid on the ground.

And they were shocked to what they found.

The fork that It had used during dinner,

Was lunged down Its throat.

And right next to Its body wrote,

"You are the killer."

Written in red,

the ground became stained with crimson as It bled.

In the cold month of December.

There laid a body in eternal slumber.

Yet even in the freezing snow.

Its face shown with a deceiving youthful glow.

And as Its body was lowered onto the ground.

No one made a sound.

People didn't stay for long,

But if they would've turned around,

And waited a while.

They would've saw a slightest glimpse of a smile.

Even as Its face was pale,

It looked so innocent,

But everyone knew that,

"The precious child is no longer present."