Child

 

I am called a child

Though I can’t understand why;

Some might think me wild,

Others a girl who can only cry.

What am I then

When love has stolen my heart?

Am I finally Woman?

Would a new start

Make me any less

Than whom I want to be?

What of the breath in my chest-

What does life make me?

I am called a child

By all I know;

Perhaps I get easily riled,

But at least I grow.

Dearest lover,

Don’t call me anything but yours;

Don’t want to be another’s.

Am I a child for asking for more?

Innocence is written

In my young face

Despite where I’ve been

And what I’ve chased.

Nevertheless, a child

Is sometimes how I act,

My mind not yet defiled

With worthless, sinful facts;

I often find the need

To take someone’s hand,

One who will encourage and help me

Find a cause and stand,

To set then reach my goals;

I like having someone at my side,

I like being in someone’s hold-

Even if it makes me a child.

Reviews

[Brittany DeFranco]

I love being childish at times, keeps you young. lol Great write! brb to review you more
100/100

[Sarah Marie]

hehe yes I agree. At times I act so much older than I am-17- but then I wish to go live with Peter Pan

[Brittany DeFranco]

lol that's funny