Selective Amnesia

Remembering rhapsodic days of yore
When frolicsome, we lisped a merry tune,
Denies the truth: that children at their core
Exist in fear awash, with anger strewn.

The sleepless nights—perhaps we wouldn't wake!
Disease and other monsters scratching soft!
The blame deflected—wasn't our mistake!
The lying balls of greed we kept aloft.

We grow and leave those awful days behind
Imbued with sweet, imaginary joy,
But poking even shallowly will find
A nastiness that age cannot destroy.

So yes, the love and laughter?  Bring 'em on!
But don't forget the dark before the dawn.