The Lost Childhood

In a chilly cold morning,filled with darkness, waiting for dawn,

I leave my cozy blanket,to get warmth from the knowledge that is yet unknown.

I wake up even before the sun to witness twinkling stars of morning,

And strive even after it sets to end my mournings.

I watch my peers playing and enjoying with delight,

And I feel the playful kid inside me had long ago died.

He died at the time he was born,

Because that wasn't a kid but a girl meant to be blown.

She grew up with the fear of something hallucinating her always,

Very shy ,depressed and nervous; happiness and calmness were miles away.

She was mentally very mature than her age,

Because she was in and her childhood ran away from that cage.

But still burying all this in grave of her heart she smile,

She never wanna let anyone know that behind this strong personality there's a soul fragile.

She knew she had no choice but to strive,

Life is a sea of thorns to get her golden rose she has to dive.

She who is actually me is a bit successful as they say,

But who knows the price she had to pay?

They gauge each achievement of mine with the luck I have,

Take away my luck and laurels, But could you bring my childhood back?

Or would you like to exchange your delights,

With those unsaid moments of my fright?

The moral is value whatever you have with you,

The possessions that other's  have can be illusions untrue.

       

Images Sources -

https://talkingissues.wordpress.com/2013/05/20/child-labour-slaves-of-poverty/

- https://www.theodysseyonline.com/dont-count-your-blessings-let-your-blessings-count