Poem: The child in 2015

 

The child in 2015

 

Colourful ribbons to frame my face

The cutest clips and bubbles to keep my hair so neatly combed in place

Oh how I miss being a child

My tears flowed and my mother wouldn't even say a word

She would kiss me so hard till the pain rolled on by

Dressed in my shoes and socks with a frilly dress to match

I didn't wear a sleeveless dress until I could no longer easily sit on my mother's lap

Oh how I miss being a child

Children now push hard to no longer be a child

Dressed in the latest big woman and big man styles

The latest gadgets they have swinging from their hips

No longer playing one two three red light or last lick

In such a rush to experience boyfriend and girlfriend relationship

Weave and fancy designs now frame the heads of the innocent child

Frustration on their faces while their mother beams with pride

Oh how I miss being a child when being a child was nice

Parents should teach their child to read and write instead of teaching them the latest dancing styles

Being a child is no longer a glorious time

Rushing to be at the front of the teenage line

Short skirts and belly skin blouses are in the children's clothes pile

Art now more appreciated on faces than on papers to create artistic places

Being a child now is no longer a glorious time

Caught up in technology and too much sexuality

- Saccheen Laing