• Truth be told
    my heart is gold
    for innocents abides it
    through childhood I must sit

    How long must I wait
    for people not to discriminate?
    beauty is in the eyes of the beholder
    Im here and you can always lean on my shoulder

    They call me a child,
    but am I really?
    I may sometimes be wild
    but thats just silly.

    Not all young ones make bad choices
    hear our voices.
    My mind is not a child.

    Yes my reactions are childish sometimes
    but isnt life full of just riddles and rhymes?
    We find it out along the way
    nothing will ever stay the same

    Dont treat me like a child
    unless its what I deserve
    by the immature actions I might serve.

    For under it all
    I am not a child.