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Innocence

Is it things we have done?

Is it the things we have seen?

Is it the things we know and learn?

Is it something we should protect

Or should we throw it to the merciless wind?

Is it tied to our humanity?

Do we lose our humanity with it?

Is it something we are simply destined to lose

As we become the monster inside

The nagging voice in your head

The monster under your bed

Always there

And in the end it is only you.

I have learned recently to be careful of not only what I do and say, but of what I see and hear. Sometimes it is truly better to be ignorant. Ignorance truly is bliss. It would be better to simply be a pretty little fool.

Reviews

[C.S.John]

Oh how I agree with you! How often do I wish I were ignorant and would not to care!

Your poem expresses this beautifully.