Sticks and Stones

The child’s shadow’s taller than mine
Cause he’s closer to the sunshine.

He knows the answer to the meaning of life,
The remedy for peace and the cure for strife.
But he’s destined to forget them
Just like me.
Just like everyone who’s ever been.

He’ll spend the rest of his life
Trying to philosophise
And rationalise.
Then he’ll compromise
And settle for less
Become second best
And be satisfied.

He comes to realise
That he’s lost the key
To decipher existence’s mystery,
Around the time he forgot his imagination at the park.

He got pushed around by authority
Tripping over the sticks of formality,
Landing on the stones of order.
That was the day he cried
Droplets that were dry
And no one heard.

Now he’ll just go on existing,
For years and years,
Without ever hoping or wishing
To understand his tears.

It won’t be until his frame is brittle
When he’ll understand,
He’d rather the sticks and stones,
Had broken his bones,
than left him the shallow scars
of inhibition and restraint.

His life is his fault, default.

Sticks and Stones

Maria Alexandratos

Kingsford, Australia

  • Artist
    Notes

Artist's Description

A plea to never forget that each individual is in charge of their own life and that children, secretly, know what life’s all about – searching, wanting, living.

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