Childhood, <br />filled with dreams and forbiden belief, <br />in what ever could you could see, <br />the naughty child, <br />was not me, <br />only framed in the love of sisterlyhood, <br />my time as a child <br />was short and sour <br />and i have been thinking about it for an hour <br />and have come to the conclusion <br />that wat i know <br />is only an alusion <br />of what my mother had wished me to think <br />and i remember how my gran was now, <br />but now the thought, <br />of my childhood is now erased forever, <br />because i cannot it bear<br /><br />Laura Venter<br /><br />http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/childhood-55/
