I’m young.
The definition of young:
Stupid.
In the moment,
Frightened.
I must admit, I’m a stupid, frightened child.

It’s fun in the bakery.
My parents work
I play, play, play,
All day.
Its very fun
In the bakery.

The monstrous machine,
It spins, spins, spins,
Round and round.
Making delicious desserts
And a deafening noise.
I’m a stupid, frightened child in the bakery.

I’m careless, thoughtless, mindless.
Yes, mindless.
I lost my mind.
Or it ran away with my logic.
My mind is blank.
Its spinning, spinning, spinning.

I told my mother,
“I want to bake, too”
I’m careless, thoughtless, mindless.
“No” was her obvious answer.
I grab an apron
With a fistful of anger.

I’m staring the machine down.
Its spinning, spinning, spinning.
The apron blowing with the wind.
I make it glide gently
Towards the monster.
I’m careless, thoughtless, mindless.

My mind wonders off.
As it slips its spinning hands
Onto the foot of my apron
Grasping it so firmly.
Pulling me towards its rage.

I’m tangled in its arms
Screaming to get free.
It won’t let go.
Only a daze I see.
I’m closer and closer.
“Mom, please help me!”

The worker rushes over
Understanding the seen
He screams for my mother
Panic fills the air.
And so does
The scared oxygen I breathe.

The button is pressed.
The object spins
Slower, slower, slower.
It’s easier to breathe.
I’m careless, thoughtless, mindless.
Everything is twisted.