Poetry Day: Dreamless Child

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(I came up with this poem after seeing a couple get angry at their child wanting to be an artist.  They were furious and immediately crushed the concept.  After that, I noticed that the child didn’t even try to use their imagination.  It was like seeing their innocence and creativity get ripped from them in an instant.)

I met a child
With an elder’s soul
Preaching reality
And reason
Instead of whimsy tales

I looked into the eyes
To find no sense of wonder
Replaced by a sternness
Reserved for firm adults
Who lost their childish thoughts

It was bizarre
And fascinating
To find this neutered child
With no imaginary friends
Or dreams to set it free

I watched it
Move among its peers
Alone and confused
Refusing to indulge
In their playful games

It railed against the fun
Screaming for conversion
As if it was the one true child
And the laughing mobs
Should stop acting out their age

Pity grew
As I watched it
Lost among the swings
Unsure what to do
Without a rationale

The cause came soon
When parents arrived
Stern and proper dressed
They found it drawing
With chalk upon the ground

Shouting ensued
As the chalk was crushed
Under an angry boot
Father and mother
Appalled by the sense of art

They lectured loud
Ignoring all the gasps
While they battered
And railed
Against imagination’s use

The child followed
Its spirit crushed again
Drained of all creative wants
Twisting it in thought
Into a dreamless child

About Charles Yallowitz

Charles E. Yallowitz was born, raised, and educated in New York. Then he spent a few years in Florida, realized his fear of alligators, and moved back to the Empire State. When he isn't working hard on his epic fantasy stories, Charles can be found cooking or going on whatever adventure his son has planned for the day. 'Legends of Windemere' is his first series, but it certainly won't be his last.
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14 Responses to Poetry Day: Dreamless Child

  1. L. Marie says:

    A beautiful and sad poem. That scenario is like watching a death taking place. 😓

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  2. That was powerful. You should write horror poetry more often.

    Liked by 1 person

  3. Reminds me of Westchester County. A fabulous poem, Charles.

    Liked by 1 person

  4. Oloriel says:

    Touching poem, Charles, unfortunately seen and lived by myself; but the hope remains that art and dreams find their way, and this kid will heed it and explore it, when there is a chance.

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    • Hope all kids in this position get a chance. Art is a dwindling skill and interest these days.

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      • Oloriel says:

        Not just that, but its hard to cultivate that love with no support; I can only speak from personal experiences, but I recently started a Graphic Design course ( because art I do do is not profitable enough, and society puts constant pressure on people to have profitable hobbies.) The first one I started had raving reviews but it was, beyond paying for the course, in my opinion pricy, and required canvases, different kinds of paint, various art tools, a working camera, atelier space + all the digital work assets. All of this is so pricy, so I gave up on it and am taking a course instead which is more digital ( as advertised tbh.) What is ironically funny is, this is exactly the same reasons I quit art school prep when finishing elementary. Thats why support, which thankfully nowadays we can at least get from internet strangers, is so important – because everything else art related tends to have so many monetary obstacles.

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      • Profitable hobbies. That’s a term I’m still trying to accept. Everyone expects people to turn their hobbies into side hustles. Even had people ask if I could make money off putting jigsaw puzzles together. It’s like nothing can be for fun and relaxation anymore.

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