Children cut the tips of their fingers
on sharp branches in the way of berries
and the soles of their feet
on glass on the ground in the way of rocks
and fallen toys.
Pain in innocence.
Adults know the branches slap
and the berries are sour.
The glass on the ground doesn't get to taste blood.
Rocks are kicked aside and cigarettes
take the place of fallen toys.
Innocence is lost.
YOU ARE READING
What's Been Lost
PoetryAlways random. Always true. {Copyright © 2014 _eternalsunshine}