Perfect Picture

When you're young, you're naive, the evil in the world you're yet to recieve. You draw a beautiful picture, of how your future will be, even though you have no way of knowing and no way to see. There's a home on the page, 4 lines and a triangle roof, and you take it as gospel, a plan bullet proof. You draw a white picket fence, to make you feel secure, Oh a small mind, so sheltered and pure.

There's two drawn stick people, smiling ear to ear, filled with hope and happiness and certainly no fear. A smaller stick person is drawn by your side, and here this stick family will stay and reside. A page filled with happiness, hope and happy ending, whilst your real future lingers ahead, confirmation pending. You hang up your drawing, right by your bed, and study it each night as you rest your weary head. You dream of the day it becomes your reality, innocently un aware of the possible brutality. Your fingers trace the stick people every morning without fail, as though you can't see, and the photo is your brail.

You boast on the playground of your imaginery family members, and if anyone mocks, you show them your temper. You name your stick child, after your favorite princess, and let your imagination take over, and your thoughts digress. You know nothing of life, the obstacles you may face, just you and your picture, your perfect happy place.