Through the eyes of a child..

Hello World,

Lately many of my blog posts have been funny (at least I think so!! lol) and that REALLY is my nature. I am fun loving and so full of humor and laughter, but there are many sides to me, I am very multifaceted. (If you don't know what that means, sorry for YOU, this is not Dictionary.com, so I will not be defining words for you; Ima need you to play words with friends, scrabble, or just take an English course real quick)

ANYWAYYYY,
saying that, I understand that many times, humor and laughter can help us get through our bad times. Humor and laughter can be the medicine that heals us. But it also can be the mask that does not allow us to heal. We cover up our pain and our hurt with laughter and the people laughing with us may never know that we are in pain and need something less frivolous and more tangible than a laugh. Like a hug, some empathy, a little bit of understanding...

I began writing as an escape and I have attempted many times to explain to people why I truly believe that my writing is s talent and a gift from my Maker. It is because when I write, I LOSE myself. I start writing and when I come up for air, I have to go back and read what I have written to know what came out. To see what I just created because it's like the words came through me from somewhere else, not from me. It is really hard to explain because it just happens as if by remote and sometimes I have to wonder myself exactly what it was I wanted to say and then re read what I wrote to make sure that is what came out.

In saying that, when I was a kid and felt so unseen, so unimportant, and so irrelevant, my writing became my way of having someone else to 'talk' to. I would write poems and short stories and sort of share them with myself afterward. Weird? Maybe, but that is what I did. I think I was in maybe the 5th grade and we started doing Current Affairs. I hated having to watch the news and be forced to write my own version of what I saw because I was disgusted with the world in general, and with my world in particular. I wanted a way out of both because I felt like my world was a direct result of the greater world. Like because the REAL world was so F ed up, that was why MY world was allowed to be so F ed up.

I wrote this poem probably when I was in the 5th grade and was made to do those current affair assignments. I know this because some of the metaphors I speak of remind me of those 10 o'clock news bulletins I had to watch. The name of it is Through the eyes of a child, and today as I read it back, I ache for those little boys and girls who have their innocence taken from them too soon and have to SEE, REALLY SEE what a cruel and cold world we live in because until it was forced upon me; cruelty and meanness, ugliness and darkness was an adult issue and I should have been allowed to avoid these things as long as possible. That's what childhood is about. Innocence, Oblivion, and Discovery...

 

Through the eyes of a child

 

 

I see the bag lady lying there,

and it brings tears to my eyes

Watching the homeless dig for cans

always leaves me wondering why

I long for the time when the world was bright

and a cold breeze was considered mild

When instead of fear, I felt mystery at night

When I saw the world through the eyes of a child

Hearing the tales of murder for hire

Clutches so painfully at my heart

And hearing the sirens of paramedics in a rush

Makes my breath just catch in my throat

I remember when I was oblivious to all this

And couldn't name one bad thing in this world

Now I am surrounded by evil and sin

No longer seeing through the eyes of a young girl

To see it all again through the eyes of a child

Would be to see wonderment and innocence

The birds would fly with no oil on its' wings

And the most populated places wouldn't be prisons

The flash of gunfire would be in the celebration of a parade

As would the sound of marching feet

Now guns pop in the name of murder

And the marching-a military fleet

War was something only in my history books

And I knew of it only to pass a test

Aids, by definition was another word for help

And to every crime, someone would readily confess

Growing up, I lost almost all that trust

I had in the goodness of man

And while growing up, I began asking why

Do we have to lose the carefree way of seeing,

Seeing things through the eyes of a child?

 

                                                                  ~Cracey Creations