The Toy

There are many things we realize about ourselves as we grow up.

The Toy

 

When we were six…
it happened.

 

We both reached for a toy,
and instantly we knew.

 

Each of us was different,
yet we were the same.

 

Our hands were colored,
dark and light.

 

At home we each had…
the same things.

 

Our daddies both did…
different jobs.

 

We dreamt each night,
the same dreams.

 

Our teacher treated
us alike.

 

I let you take the toy,
looking in your eye.

You gently picked it up…
and handed it to me.

 

When we were six…
it happened.

Reviews

[Christina May Shanaberg]

I love watching children play together; nothings matters, except play. They, usually, don't even ask for names. They don't care whether one has a lace dress and one is wearing tattered hand-me-downs. Children are children and at some point I believe adults turn them into adults. Your poem said a lot, in very few words. Excellent writing!

[Griffin Hill]

I see you point from the other comments. Well done. I have a binder of poems. This one’s a keeper.

[JENY]

This poem shines like dew drop….
On a rose petal...
Very very very very nice……..

[Honeypot]

This is lovely. Wouldn't it be great if things were that easy now a days? You really can learn a lot when you watch children play. This was wonderful.

[Gandré]

So what does this tell me? It says that we need to have love and compassion for each other, for we are all the same. Once we were innocent children..... now we are not.. but we still can go back and connect with those we once loved. Or meet new ones and find love in them. - You gently picked it up…
and handed it to me.

- this tells me: love is about sharing. great piece.

[An owl on the moon]

There is such a rich depth of life that you share here in that experience that may seem so simple yet reveals so much. Here is a lesson that if we could somehow pass it on the world would be a better place. Excellent write!

[Chloe..Across the Unive..]

Such a poignant poem and the reality of how our surroundings, parents , media, ect. all combined change out thinking.. or do we do that ourselves?
This poem is so good , well written... it leaves me with a feeling of loss and sadness.

Chloe

[Norma M Sutton]

I like this. Sad that children grow up and start to see the differences and stop seeing the similarities.