Sweet little child
How raw and wild
Your are.
So full of life,
So full of energy,
That’s what you’re supposed to be
Free, so carefree,
It’s frightening to see
For the witness, the guardian, the protector.
For them, the sight is uncanny.
How can this be ?
Like you, they never could be.
Where does that inheritance come from ?
Who gave it to you ? After all, you’re not ready.
Or so they believe.
They think you’re « too much »
Too mischievous, too curious
And not self-conscious
Too straightforward, too truthful
In their eyes, it is sinful.
Calm and docile you should be,
They say.
Silent and obedient you must be,
They say.
Why, oh why do they do this to you ?
Do they see evil in you ?
You’re just a child
Aren’t they supposed to protect you ?
They take from you.
Joy, wonder, sensivity,…
Every parts of you.
Not realising they are breaking you.
Breaking your very being
By robbing everthing
That is you.
A pale version is all that’s left.
Broken
Heartbroken
Suppressed
