'Why the hell are we conditioned into the smooth strawberry-and-cream Mother-Goose-world, Alice-in-Wonderland fable, only to be broken on the wheel as we grow older and become aware of ourselves as individuals with a dull responsibility in life? '
-Sylvia Plath
There he is
Just a little lad
He has only spent four years
In this Cruel Universe
He is still pure, free, clean
From all the Nazis, Communists
And everyone in between.
He sings about
Silly Little Things
Like an egg beside a wall,
An old lady in the boot
Even a giant in the sky
Accesible only by a
Vegetable elevator.
He also watches shows
About a little yellow bear
Who eats honey and wears
A red, red, a peacefully red shirt.
He is taught about
A Jesus that loves little children
Who is kind, terribly terribly kind
And always answers your prayer.
A God that is an endless
Fountain of Love, who loves
All, regardless of where they are from
Or what they have done or
Who they love.
But, alas
Alas the child will be
Taught that the best state of mind
Is one-track, his soul will become
A one-way street. He shall either
Learn, or have it crammed down
His small little throat.
(18 June 2008)
(Justin, Texas)
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
rubbish and isnt even about poo sadly