Reshape The Landscape

At that tender age, for a naive soul

Entering the lush greens of the elite was an ideal utopic scene,

 Little did she know the paradox between the barbarous reality

and her far-fetched dreams.

Behind the quarter so clean, 

Who knew, resided opportunists that mean. 

Those self-centered ideas seemed scary, 

What if the crafty minds succeeded in diminishing another gullible sheen? 

Soon she realized it wasn't the world she fantasized about, 

Had she remained there for long, 

The world would dwell her in its color, 

Rendering her lost in the crowd. 

Confronting the truth, believing the hypothesis appeared to be the only way to escape, 

Was it her notions of an ideal world that required a reshape? Or the society, a different perspective of a five-year-olds landscape!