Scars Of Innocence

We were raised underneath

The warmth of childhood,

So innocent and meek,

Oblivious, as it could.

The world was as it existed

In glorious books and plays,

Boundaries persisted

Against fouls and mistakes.

Living seemed to be a blessing

Generously bestowed,

Lurking away from the truth,

Patiently waiting to be gnawed.

Ripened by wisdom’s prejudice

and its unruly scars

We walked mountains, whilst

trying to reach for the stars.

Yet, life mustn’t be a chore

so we strive in perpetuity,

Lest it be rendered numbly ashore

by judgment’s promiscuity.