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Sad Poem: I am Just a Little Child

Updated on January 7, 2018
JR Cuevas profile image

Ray is a civil engineering student and former student journalist. He loves to write about education, technology, and lifestyle.

I'm a Little Child
I'm a Little Child | Source

Not to mention the origin of the everyday feud,

It’s too much to think that it's endless, they always argued,

I’m a little child back then when these things get underway,

Hoping things will get better soon I hope betterment is on its way.

Since I was child, I gingerly grasped the condition of the life in hand,

Without a contented heart and a peaceful mind,

It feels like a soldier, no hint of when the battle begins,

Self-preparation is the key and be sturdy and firm,

And coming with the thought of removing the stains.

After all these bravery and courage in my mind,

My heart breaks when it feels not right,

I can’t help it but cry like a penniless little one,

Who doesn’t have someone to vent out the damage that’s done.

The argument... fight... quarrel... squabble...

Whatever informal word you call it, all are miserable,

Through my eyes, I see them falling out,

Foul words and loud screams streaming out their mouth,

I can’t do anything but to cry and say “Stop!”,

I was a little child.

I never imagined that those fights could be too threatening,

Until a sharp knife was once pointed that it was so frightening,

Guilt inside them I know and I saw it,

Manifesting through their scared faces and yet they’re concealing it,

And I can’t do anything but to cry again and say “Drop it!”,

I was a little child.

There are these flowery vases of sizes big and small,

Making our home’s atmosphere befits its old peace and control,

But when a dispute started to arise ‘til it became serious,

Expected! The beauty of these decorations will be at calamitous,

And I can’t do anything again but to cry and wipe all the broken pieces on the floor,

I was a little child.

There were times where I wished and asked God,

If this is the replacement of the intellect awarded,

Then reward me with the smallest amount of that,

In exchange of a kinship that's delighted and contented,

To lift me up and bring back the pieces fragmented.

I tried to convey my devastation,

I cried because that’s the least thing I can do without their consideration,

I cried because it hurt me more than them hurting each other,

I cried because I’m a little child.

© 2017 PellucidRay


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    • JR Cuevas profile image

      PellucidRay 10 months ago from Santa Rosa, Philippines

      Thank you very much John Hansen. It is very much appreciated. I will try to read your poem as well. :)

    • Jodah profile image

      John Hansen 10 months ago from Queensland Australia

      This is a sad but beautifully written piece of poetry, John. I wrote a piece it's a very similar theme called: What I Did at the End of the Street. Good work.