Child's Play

A flower,
Often used as a symbol of power,
Either for peace,
But isn’t a flower ticking time piece,
As the timer slowly decreases,
Because even a flowers time isn’t able to be locked away,
Instead its beauty will surround those who play,
And run through the fields,
Whose youth has no shields,
A child’s play,
Isn’t seen in an adult’s day,
Because only a child could look at a flower and see the true beauty it can hold,
Only a child could see the glow from the sun as though it shines gold,
Only a child can look at a butterfly and see it fly through a romantic blue sky,
A child’s simple mind doesn’t ask why,
But instead looks at an item as though for the first time,
Because in a child’s mind they only want to climb,
And run,
In search for the next source of fun,
Even a mother can see the wonder in a child’s eye,
Though some kids may seem shy,
All children learn through experience,
Nothing to them seems to be that serious,
But as that child starts to grow,
Their mind start starts to become slowed,
No longer may that child see the beauty all around them,
Instead they seem to become numb,
Until eventually that child seems to be almost gone completely,
That child has neatly disappeared,
Soon that child may start working,
Clerking,
Typing away,
No more will that child play,
Eventually that human may have a child of themselves,
And watch that child look in the world and see wonder in almost everything,
And that human whether boy or girl, queen or king,
Will see the light that they are missing from their world today,
And that person will slowly start to decay,
They will watch around them as the world starts to change,
That human may feel strange,
But they will still put on a smile,
Until the day that child turns to bile.