Little did I know
Glint of the Naive
Hit on open-lashes awake,
Aurora forging me aware.

Out of the blue flew
By the bough of flue
Halo bells of Past
Haunting in retort

Little did I heed
Thy innocent need
Of making me alive
Amidst drape of alike

Hoax of faces, Fantasy!
Mine jejune silly Past,
To over-ripened, feigned today.
Ah! Prize the kid in thou.

Evincing a limpid path
Filled in Art, acoustic!
For Thyselves to cherish

The Broken Naive Pieces!

This poem is an attempt to capture the beauty of cherishing and learning from the child you once were and the grace of carrying those values into adulthood. Innocence is something we inevitably lose over time, shaped by a world that presents itself as real but often turns us into artificial and deceptive. Yet, within each of us, there is an echo—a voice that calls us to truly live. That voice is the child within us—the broken, naive pieces of an innocent past!