Mozafar Ali

I Miss Being A Kid - Poem by Mozafar Ali

No responsibilities, no care.
I fight for sweets, I over use ‘that’s not fair’
I’m young, lively, and joyful indeed.
That was me before I was a teen.

I miss being a kid,
Miss all the fun.
Getting away with murder,
Me and my toy gun.

Oh I how I miss them days,
My mother, would hold my hand and show me the right ways,
Oh I miss how I was free,
But now I’m jumping up and down for this money tree.

I’m older now; some say I’m wiser,
Worrying about my next pay check,
I hesitate now every night,
I don’t want to die knowing it just was not enough!

I’m supposed to repent to my Lord,
So I do as I’m told, as a kid I’d argue instead, Prayer done!
Smiling whilst in bed, feeling that My Lord protecting my head.
Tonight my trials and tribulations come to an end.

No Longer a kid, or a man.
No longer is there a night or day because now I’m dead!

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Poem Submitted: Wednesday, May 11, 2011

Poem Edited: Thursday, May 12, 2011

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