When I was a child not older than three,
I saw spirits over my bed,
A boy and a woman holding hands.
I did not move.
Nothing was said.
I only stared at the two
Who were born from a fantasy
Of a tired child’s head
Who gave meanings to shadows.
But they were real.
I believed they were there.
I was not scared I was delighted
to see the family together.
I pictured the boy as a kid my age
As an unknown friend who loves to play,
read, write and draw
Who had a caring mother
Who was kind
Who held his hand and told him words of wise.
But this is at least what I saw.
But time made the darkness a dangerous place
Filled with monsters and beasts
I wasn’t scared until I was told I should be
By all of my peers.
Back then I could look at spirits and smile,
But I guess fear only comes after you have lived for a while.
Points:
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Canary word: Present
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125,007 Literary Works • 672,815 Reviews
Well, this brings back memories. When I was little, I was TERRIFIED of the dark. I wish I had seen it the way you did, though. I think it's true that in this day and age, we're scared more than we should be. We look at something and think "What bad things could happen?" We need to think like children, who see only the good in everything and anything. I liked this poem because it made me think. And to me, at least, the words were quite melodic. So, yeah, you did a good job.
I love how this addresses peer pressure and growing up! Maybe that wasn't the point of this poem, but that's what i took from it. Oh well.
Onto the review:
The lack of punctuation got to me a little bit. It helps the reader a lot with pacing to include the punctuation, and also with determining if they should read it in a meter. The line breaks help a bit, but I definitely felt the lack of sentence structure.
Also, in the lines "Who had a caring mother/Who was caring and kind" I don't think that the repetition of the word "caring" was necessary. It reads smoother if it's "Who had a mother/Who was caring and kind." Just my nitpicker coming out.
Overall, great work and I loved the poem.