One Big Lie

What I had I am without today;
my childhood innocence, carefree laughter, my freedom to be.
Now everything has changed, and I have been exposed.
I smell the foul dirt when a person speaks,
I hear the vulgar beats of cruel hearts- if hearts they may be-,
I taste the bitterness of false sunshine,
the rays of something so large and bright,
and I wonder, how could it lie?
How is it ten years ago I could raise my eyes to the sky
and feel joy in the overly-optimistic promises
of such an illuminated yellow?
How couldn't I notice that the reason we cannot stare
directly at this incandescent bulb
is because it doesn't allow us to
in case we discover the truth of its deception
and sanguine manipulation?
Lies, lies, lies- the world was once rid of them
in the days when little ladybugs caught my attention,
daisies tickled my ankles; tootsie rolls and lollipops
and a drizzle of a light rain tasted the sweetest.
Then I realized- when the downpour came and the
widest, heaviest, darkest clouds I have ever witnessed
drenched my hopeful smile, stung my naive pupils,
and chilled my happy body to the interior of each bone-
that every dream I have ever dreamt
is broken.
There is no peaceful world where everyone can simply be friends,
and the wild animals will be kind to you if you are to them;
there aren't all nice people, and not everyone can be beautiful;
there are no easy answers and there is no fairness.
Worst of everything, there is no happily ever after.
Instead, when I visited the city I waited to see my entire life
I gazed fearfully upon deathly ill and poor folk,
homeless children, bruised mothers, drunk men with missing teeth,
cars driving too fast, unsanitized corners, leaking sewages,
wailing babies, sleepless businessmen and women, incredibly crowded streets,
countless cups of coffee, hundreds of cigarettes being lit at the same time,
shouting taxi drivers, only black coats and shoes, a speeding clock,
all under a solemn, gray sky.
I learned that the word "home" could also refer to a ghetto,
that people reach a time when we outgrow toys
and our play tea-sets, and dollhouses, and action figures,
and Halloween is for silly kids who want to devour tons of candy
and have awful teeth with expensive cavities,
and that Santa Clause isn't real,
and there are no leprechauns on St. Patrick's day
nor any pots of gold,
and the tooth fairy never did exist;
our parents did everything,
just the way we'll lie to our children when the time comes,
the way we were given plentiful hope of a magical world
to crush it not when we tell them it's untrue,
but when they find for themselves they cannot trust our words.
What is there left to trust when we grow to view an upside-down
world that causes us to undergo an upside-down view of ourselves,
so that every day we must check in the mirror and ask
are we duping our own beings,
the reflections we were once sure of?
Because, it's true, we do grow from our childhood
and lose the ability to laugh merrily without an underlying stress;
we cannot be entirely ourselves around each and every person;
and the innocence we had only lasts until we become aware
it's all just one big lie.