Monday, October 3, 2011

Rooted unreality

Do you ever remember
that childhood game of 'pretend'?
You were who you wanted to be,
and did reality  suspend.

An engine driver for a day,
when the engine was not even there.
Oh those delicious meals you created,
that came and disappeared into thin air.

You were who you chose to be,
from one day to the next.
Nothing stopped you  from pretending,
you were what you loved best.

You were so all-powerful,
you saved the world all alone,
Or just waited for your prince charming,
to share your beautiful throne.

That world of make believe,
was so very wonderful.
It may not have meant much to anyone,
but for you it was very real.

Then you had to grow up,
and leave that world behind.
You were told it did not work that way,
just because you had it in  your mind.

Pretend though you still did,
as you faced the daily grind.
You just clothed it in better words,
as with 'diplomacy' you arrived.

Whatever got you ahead,
is what you said you liked.
No matter what the reality,
you had yourself well psyched.

That may be the way of the world,
and necessary to live,
but here is another thought,
you may want some time to give.

Diplomacy and fantasy,
that help handle the adult world today,
are grown from seeds that as children,
were planted yesterday.

So next time you get stuck for an answer,
and don't know what to do,
just go back into that carefree childhood,
and it may just come to you!


  1. Nice poem! even in pretention there is an element of innocence in children.

  2. Welcome to this space... Thanks...


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