Childhood Realistically is Paper Cut-Outs of the Past

Anti-reality kids love to pretend & hate telling the truth. To be a part of life we have to be cut-out of it. Listen to Cat Stevens 'Wild World' and watch Park Chan-wook's I'm a Cyborg, But That's OK.

Sleepwalking through life,

Cut out of shadows,

Forever the world tears us apart.

The future is a flower that never blooms,

Anti-reality the past is a diseased root.

Sooner or later the present is all that flourishes.

Paper thin imaginary cut-out children 

Are all that remind you of your own childhood,

Inherently survivors of misadventures.

You know how it feels but I don't want to think about it,

For some reason I want to keep some things to myself.

Little creatures don't have much to think about

(But they do have a lot to be scared of)

Birds startled out of trembling trees by explorers.

Kids hate telling the truth but love to pretend.

You already know the story of my life so far;

Sunday falling over myself in the slowing of time,

Monday there's no way back everything feels so far away,

Tuesday alarm clock startles myself out of my bones,

Wednesday overslept and half asleep the rest of the day,

Thursday awoken by bin-men disassembling my limbs,

By Friday everything's my fault and I just want to disappear,

Saturday and all I want to do is sleep till I am no longer alive.

To be a part of reality we have to be cut-out of life.

Vanishing day by day till you feel free again,

Its only natural that people don't leave us alone.

For some reason we become safer by ourselves,

No longer little kids pretending to be big creatures.

Pretending just to be somewhere else, anywhere else

Save yourself the pain.

 

Reviews

[M Baker]

Well, another piece that I love. You perfectly capture what it is like to be so afraid of the waking world that one would do anything to escape it. Escaping reality with daydreams and other forays into the imagination always seems so innocent and therapuetic. However, sometimes the escape leads to the question of whether disappearing into an imaginary world--some unreality--is what's best for that person? Is that the only way true art is made? Does a person have to "just want to disappear" in order to function? Or does that escape leave us as only functional in the unreality and completely awkward in the waking world? Regardless of what the answer may be, this great poem ilicits such questions.

[ice]

Brilliance in every line; deep thought brought to solid truths and reality.
The picture is a perfect match for the poem.
Pondered, and enjoyed.

[HopelesslyDevoted]

i agree, wonderful write. this really struck me.

[Deactivated_BurningDemo..]

This is so deep and beautiful. I love it.

[2Real2BTrue]

I love how every word, every line has so much meaning and purpose to it, as they do in all your poems, but it's definitely clear in this one. There are so many lines and parts that make so much sense to me, they just perfectly capture the truth.

"The future is a flower that never blooms"- is so true because tomorrow is never today, it never comes, ironically.

"Kids hate telling the truth, but love to pretend"- pretending, in an essence, is a lie.

I can definitely relate to your description of Saturday because I often want to sleep all day long, in the hope of disappearing.

And my absolute favorite part: "For some reason we become safer by ourselves" which beautifully sums up why I'm a loner.

Very beautiful, going into my faves, 100/100