To A Child...

To A Child

I ask you, who are you?
You answer me with your name.
I repeat. You repeat. In pure simplicity.
Nothing seems difficult. Or complicated.
The red bucket and the yellow spade.
Barbie with Ken. Forever.

Now, cracks show on skin. Limbs askew.
Contorted. No longer a beautiful game.
No longer perfect. You see the audacity
As he walks away. Childhood is dated
By your thoughts. Yet the golden shade
Of childhood days linger. Simple. Perfect.

Forever.