broken childhood.

they told me stories of their childhood: birthday parties and sparkling tiaras to rest on their heads: but my parties were empty for they held only me and the only thing resting on my head was agonizing pressure and it was far from sparkling.

they told me of their childhood: weekend trips and shopping sprees; but my weekends were spent inside my isolated room, the only shopping i did was shop for more misery.

they told me of their childhood: careless laughter and flower-like innocence; and i wanted to tell them that i was once innocent too before the world painted me in dark sin,

they told of their childhood: their eyes gleamed with joy and hands met each other occasionally, and my gleamed too but with tears instead of joy and i hoped for at least one hand to help me.

then they turn their heads towards me, they want to hear my happy story, but i shook my head again..

because my story was sad before it even began.

-naurin abubaker

#poetry #childhood #children #kid #lost #poem #prose #naurin