The White Room

When the first light reaches your eyes
it blinds you, finds you within the very recesses
of the child you once were
the child you no longer are
the child smothered
when the creeping fingers of adulthood
took their hold

But the child finds you, guides you
through the light, where you see nothing
nothing but the faint red string
that tethers you to the shadows
that were once memories

You crave a nursery's comforting arms
but the white room chills you
fills you with mourning
for the loss of innocence

Children are pure
untainted
untouched by smoke
and greed
and life

The white room takes hold
and you are pushed

into the light
into tomorrow