Today a man, a woman,and a child much younger than measked me who I wanted to beI responded with – Is that really up to me?They nodded their heads yes and walked away kicking dirt into their shoes.I thought about it for the decade I spent walking homeThe month I spent trying to catch a thought on the wayThe years spent trying to get a pinch of an ideaBy the time I got home I knew what I wanted to be…
I want to be a lemon treebut not so sour that people make faces when they tastemy personality,
I want to be delicate,But not too delicate I can’t go through punishment
I want to be yellowWhile all the other greens surround me,But not so yellow as green can’t blend with yellow to make a unique color
I want to be youngBut not so young I can’t experience expressing myself with more than words I want to be everythingBut not so everything I can’t be too much of somethingI want to be me. That’s all!
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Editorial Note: In publishing 11-year old Kika’s poem, The Bangalore Review wishes to reiterate its belief in the young, that their dreams are possible and poetry makes it happen!
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Photo by Rodion Kutsaev on Unsplash