once grown
we can never be children again.

we feel too much
see too much
know too much.

or . . . is it that we know too little
that holds us back
from being who we are
for fear we will expose
the child living inside
isolated . . . forbidden . . . marginalized
waiting to be delivered
from our own adult shadows
and left to live
to feel
to see
to be . . . and let be?

once grown
our inner judge . . . inner critic
is always there

always ready
to sentence . . . and condemn.