What I See in the Little Boy
- March 08, 2017
I saw a small naked boy
Running down the street
Not minding how many eyes that stares
Though he had nothing on
Yet he was clothed in innocence
I wondered where he hurried too
And I wish I was small again
Having nothing to worry about
Growing up for many is a curse
A sentence into the jail of struggle
Hands are festered in the chains of fears
Legs manacled in the bound of uncertainty
And we wondered where our innocence had gone.
© Olatuja Oloyede