Once upon a time I had a hero, a dream, an imagination.

But all of that, you see, was taken.T

he culprit unmistaken:

Life.

My adolescence stolen

while I, a child, slept.

The worst crime committed,

yet not one of you souls wept.

You mock my childlike demeanor

but if you only knew; were a little keener

if you could see in a little deeper...

you just might understand.

But I don't believe that you would weep

nor ever miss a day of sleep

for, you would still not understand:

How is it possible? How does she stand?

She has no soul that is discernable

It truly is quite incredible

that she exists; continues living.

When she has no essence to extract...

And yet she still remains intact?