Just now I have only realized,
How much it hurts when someone makes fun of something you love—
When they choose to treat your interest as something silly.
For it didn't matter to them,
But to you—it did.

They didn't know that what they're making fun of is the reason for you to still exist today,
The reason for you to hold on,
The reason for the smile on your face,
The reason for your happiness,
And the reason that you feel that you matter.

I would rather tell a child of my fascination
rather than a being who could fully understand
my sentiments
for they will never truly understand.
I child would wonder and learn to appreciate what you love,
but a whole being would first criticize and make fun of you.

A child may not understand but they would listen.

So, once again, today,
I am pondering on the beauty of being a child,
and the toughness of being a grown person. Sometimes I would wish I could go back to being a child
so that once again I can be encapsulated by the bubble of innocence and shallow happiness.
For now that I have grown,
the realities of life keep on chasing me
as if I haven't had enough.