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The Death Of Childhood!The fragility of innocence, it's depth and length and heart, seems to cram so little, then scram and fall apart! The fresh soft eyes of wonder, searching all the new, are blinded by the pictures, all heavy sharp and blue! All the information, the cutting grown up pain, blasts the mind, spots the heart and leaves a shadowed stain! The slush of life so often spills and drowns the bright, and soils the soul of childhood and flickers out it's light! Joy Weare. 14th September, 2006. Poetry Ad-Free Upgrades Vote for this poem
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