your wonder spits a ghastly future, child

and hears the mourning wails of naive’s death

a rabbit through and through, skinned with style

dead on bed in the head with the last breath

shall i toy with innocence by the neck

through learning summer concludes far too fast

once i die, i’ll grow back older, a wreck

such is “best” life when the world is too vast

i’ll look forward to wine at nine, silent home

while gripping naivety like a dead rose

the one my first love gave me, but i’ve grown

curiosity plus cat on my clothes

apply concrete to open wounds, onward!

we grow too big for our bones, still, stronger.