Pretty Please

Tell me, pretty please?

No, you're just too young to

understand.

Am not.

You just don't see things
the way they should be seen.

Do so. The grass is green.

The sky is blue.

What else is there?

It's not that simple.
You just wouldn't get it.

A small pink tounge emerges

from a pink lemonade stained mouth.

The child turns and runs.

I'm left wondering when my childhood.
innocence. simplicity. dissapeared.

With first kisses? First drinks?
With seasons? With birthdays?

Can I go back?

Can I go back to the times where right

wasn't wrong, and wrong wasn't right?

Can I go back to a world where colored

reffered to crayons and paper?

Can I go back to the times when AIDS

was just something that came after the word band?

Can I go back to the times when the

grass was green

and the sky was blue?

Nothing in between.

No complications. No deportations.

No assasinations. No infestations.

No trepidations. No classifications.

No obligations. Only Disneyfication.

Just a blue sky and a green grass.

Please?

Pretty Please?