Yield, My Inner Child
Yield, My Inner Child
Her goals, once as attainable as clouds; she can reach with planes
The fields are like specks from the mountains she scales
Buildings are tall as the clouds; Heights which she had dreamt
Only distractions will now allow her to fail
She wears all black; a funeral for fierce fears
Suitcase in hand; She hopes she will come back to the green fields
And finally, she understands adults; Understands grim smiles and strained talks
She knows distrust and betrayal; Her inner child will yield
But I am sure, it will never go away