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Growing Up
March 28, 2015
At sunset I would sleep in my crib
Demons exploded in my little head.
They cried to scratch the gloomy bruise undid.
I craved the blinded red to be bled.
In morn rose I, pale blond, adult and wise.
I learned hot lies from flames of colored sky.
The light burned under blinds of night disguise.
They broke to strengthen my old eye.
Night reflected my gray-hair.
Return my soul to chilly air, I sighed.
My alighted eyes, the prey of dim lit skies.
Their colorless ways, a colorful lie.
Monochrome confined me.
Now I am free.
© Catlin B., Marblehead, MA
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Classic dystopian novels, Ray Bradbury's Fahrenheit 451 and Lois Lowry's The Giver, inspired me to write this sonnet about a child uncovering the long-hidden truths of his dystopian community as he matures.