Child is not a puzzle,
But surely puzzles all.
His acts stands mirror
Of his true mind,
And what man be,
A child adheres to one
At a time with innocence,
But a man at least nine
With his divided mind.
He is what he is
Looks alike
Both inside or out.
He does what he likes,
And never
What he dislikes.
If he smiles he smiles,
If he cries,he cries,
There is no holding back
Of emotions
Be it pleasure or pain.
He staggers
When he strives
To walk
Fall and rise
Become the same
As he is nature's wise.
But there is
In every house
A hazed and misty glass
Where....
Even anger stricken face
Looks fully smeared
With grace.
Act and mind
Like two banks of a river
Has their separate ways
Which ever needs
A bridge to meet.
But the child
With his simplest ways
Always remains
A lasting craze
Among those
Who crave for love,
Crave for peace
Of mind and days.
