Where is the child

He fears those things he loved once

Colourful toys and his painting books

And they smiled and he laughed

he gave them colours and he was their god

They told the tales and he listened

And they danced with the songs he sang

he found and he lost, those things he loved once

In his cupboard, he heard the cursing sounds,

And their whispering screams

And their dusty noisy coughs

Those days are gone, and the child is no more

He is dead and his joyful mind

Blinded  heart has forgotten such toys

Creepy hands have forgotten such arts

But the toys are waiting, soon he will change

Colours will bloom once again by his hands..