Could I become a child again?
One who doesn't know the voids filled with selfish motives within the outwardly self proclaimed true and best and honest compositions of this world, the rotting hollows within every solid proclaiming structure.
One who doesn't have to bother with the running away of time and of people too.
One who can sleep without getting up again and again throughout the night just to find that you weren't dreaming but just thinking- again and again- the same old thought.
One who can eat heartily without worrying how many people might be hungry today?
One whose mind doesn't keep reminding him of so many unfinished hopes- millions in every falling tear drop- every time he does something opening up his heart.
One who fears ghosts and voices and cockroaches and not about how badly you'll be broken, wounded and bruised when you fall trying to reach out your hand just for those tiny little hope filled lights.
One who can laugh hard until he feel all his ribs and stomach tighten and doesn't have to wear masks on his face everyday.
One who burries coins as treasures under trees and not feelings, secrets and the unfair games of life within his heart.
One who can cry heartily.