I search the playgrounds of my past, distraught, hoping to

locate the innocence I somehow lost.

I

grieve for the little boy that believed mankind was inherently good.

In my rush to grow up, I raced through my

childhood, though I now hunger for the purity that I shed too soon, replaced by

the maturity which I had misunderstood.

Once I was exposed to the evil that has always coexisted in the world,

my heart hardened unwilling to accept that I was now a flightless bird.

Subjected to abuse in every form, I began to

think that I was solely capable of being scorned.

I would bathe in the hopes that my disdain would be swallowed by the drain;

my contempt corroded my faith in humanity, as I allowed myself to be overcome

by the darkness inside of me.

Instances

of injustice around the world threw me over the edge, as I mourned for my

innocence that was now dead.

Powerless,

I conformed to the ugliness that surrounded me, hostility and hatred worked

hand in hand to devour me behind the scenes.

I became a product of my perceived environment, lashing out with anger

at anyone that pleaded for me to let them in.

The fire in my heart raged on destroying everything that got in its way;

my conflict with myself escalated into a war with many casualties.

My soul was restless as it tried many times

to escape, desperate for the innocence I left behind so long ago.

Estranged from love, I was now barren yet my

ire continued to grow.

My infertile mind

refused to fathom that any semblance of good could possibly remain despite all

of the famine, greed and disease by which our hearts were stained.

Imprisoned by my inability to admit that

good and bad were subjective terms, I obsessed about the extinction of morality

and ethics.

Hypnotized by the media’s propagated

portrayal of the disastrous and tragic, I was inconsolable as I questioned

whether our problems would ever be fixed.

Suddenly I heard a voice as faint as falling snow reminding me to look

deeper and find the helpers.

Incredulous

that my conscience had stayed despite my relentless desire for detriment, I

accepted its advice and set out in search of evidence that beauty still

remained.

On my quest for good, I became

amazed by foreign aides that emanated love like saints; humbled by

humanitarians and helpers united by their desire to end world pain.

Grasping tightly onto these glimmers of light

that illuminated the dark, my blackened heart was slowly becoming vibrant as I

witnessed acts of unconditional love.

Through terrorism and torture, trials and torment, there was still love

and light though good was overlooked replaced by tragedy.

With every disaster, I remember that there

are always altruists that aim to ease the endless sorrow; with every evil act,

many unite to ensure it is the last.

The innocence I lost made me wiser in the end,

as it equipped me with the same objectivity that I employ with family, foe or

friend.