Are children as clueless as we think? Or are they smarter than we think. My young sister, whose 9, came up to me tonight and handed me a picture. She said that it was for me and that it was a picture of me. On it stood, as she said, me. Her usual cheerfulness was gone out of the picture. On it stood me and instead of smiling like she usually draws me I'm frowning with tears running down my face. When I asked why I was frowning she simply stated that it was because I was no longer happy. After this she ran off, without a care in the world. All I could do was stare at that picture. No one has had me on the verge of tears in so long, yet when I looked at this picture I couldn't help but cry. If my sister saw through my mask, how well was I actually hiding my pain? If she could see it, then who else could? Why did I think that children were clueless? They pick up on hints we often give better than our own parents. So I beg you to think of this question. Are the children, whom we love and adore, as clueless as we thought or are they just pretending?
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Dear Someone
PoetryJust some thoughts of a lost girl. Just gonna put this out there but my very first poem is very dark and very scary. I, in no way, shape or form encourage anorexia and self harming. A lot of my poems come from the bad times I've been going through...
