Why must I wear this mask each day,
When the real me inside longs to play?
The child within—so pure, so true—
Keeps asking me:
"Why must I hide behind a view
That’s never really you?"
This heavy cloak of pretense I wear,
Smothers the innocence gasping for air.
The child I was still knocks within,
Begging to be let out again.
He dreams of chasing butterflies,
Under open, wonder-painted skies.
He wants to sail paper boats in rain,
And dance with joy, forgetting pain.
From bricks piled high on construction ground,
He wants to build tall forts unbound.
Then race with falling walls of clay,
And laugh aloud in reckless play.
On summer noons, with secret glee,
He craves those ice-candies—wild and free.
Red and yellow, sweet and sour,
Those frosty treats still hold their power.
The taste, the chill—it haunts me still,
Like memories time cannot distill.
What do I do with this child inside?
How long must he in shadows hide?
This mask I wear to fit the mold,
Keeps his innocence on silent hold.
Yet my soul aches to finally say,
"Don’t steal my childhood away!"
Return me to those simpler years,
Unburden me of grown-up fears.
Let me live in that golden past,
Where joy was deep, and days held fast.
Don’t drag me through this tangled maze,
Where truth is lost in grown-up haze.
Let me stay where I belong—
In childhood's world of dreams and song.
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