It was here we learnt
the true nature of adults;
of their inability to let children be.
I still remember your face
when you realised someone
was spying through the hatch –
I still remember your face
and the way it paled blank
and twisted as you were chastised
for playing in the attic with dolls;
I’m sorry, sweet boy, the toys
we played with became weapons
in other peoples’ hands,
I’m sorry the adults we knew
were too spiteful to understand.
In response to day 17: attic, #rainsasmprompts
Poem: © Kristiana Reed 2019
Available internationally