The only path I was given was strength-
a cloak too heavy for a child's shoulders.
Each time I longed for comfort,
I was handed phrases like stones:
"You are strong, you can bear it"
But when my heart ached for warmth,
it was chilled.
When I begged to be understood,
I was taught to understand.
When I reached for arms,
I touched only air.
When I cried for love,
they called it weakness.
Now the child within me,
who never tasted childhood,
Plays with tiny joys
-collects giggles like seashells,
clings to moments like fireflies in jars.
Yet they call me immature.
Tell me-
is maturity nothing but silence?
A seriousness carved into stone?
Is it standing alone in the dark,
with no promise of love?
If so,
let me remain a child.
For innocence is the only strength that still keeps me alive.
-
Author:
Antra Sharma (Pseudonym) (
Offline) - Published: June 15th, 2026 07:59
- Category: Unclassified
- Views: 10
- Users favorite of this poem: Friendship
- In collections: The girl behind the strength.
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Comments4
this poem is so relatable. So well written and creatively crafted.
Thank you! Keep reading
A beautiful poem of the positive atributes of a child and one that is given the burdens of an adult when a child and called a child when they become an adult a mixed and paradoxical combination. Well written
Yes thank youuuuuu for your kind words!
You are always most welcome
Well written
Thank you
Amazing💕✨
Thank you!
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