October 19, 2013

A Child's Voice

She stood by the road, responding to conversation, cryptic formations; a child’s response to adult themes.  Life bombards her with self awareness, and she responds in short, obscure replies. 
A child’s voice I hear, and I wonder if you are mimicking life? 
I talk in full sentences, she cannot reply.  She looks away, and the world around is left with deadening silence.
A paragraph, she now speaks of fears; telling of what she can not go beyond:  A past together of feelings of pressure; she absolves responsibly, to a snail’s pace, more or less.  Slow down, she asks, and views the past. 
Words I see, just words.  She places, not just responsibility, but guilt onto the world.
I am the cause of these spoken words, the world at large.  I am the problem, the guilt ridden.  Am I to grant her this imaginary world, or a forgiveness she does not recognize?  Where is this ethereal line in which we stand?  Step forward, step backward, step up?  Where, please tell me where we take this stand?  A quandary, there is no easy answer; where do we draw this line?

A timid voice spoke from the crowd 
No Time to reply  
No Time, had she to give
No time to try

The earth shook
The child trembled when she tried to stand
Help me, she pleaded
I will try

Stand up, stand up
March in the parade
Stand up, stand up
Do not be afraid

Stand up and be counted
A strong voice command
Stand up, stand up
She hears the band

Standing very still by the side of the road, not able to march, just waiting for time and the band to pass

Stand up, stand up
March in this line
Standing, standing
All will be fine

I’ll march tomorrow, this I vow
Life will continue, if time will allow

No child to be seen, no time to play
Time marched on, life passed away 

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