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When you were 8
You kicked stray puppies down the street
And shot the birds who flew too close to the ground
And tripped people off and laughed when they fell
And learnt how good things come to those who hurt
And so hurt, you did.

When you were 8
You believed flowers turn purple if you lie to them
And you hear thunder everytime Santa farts
And your father loves your mother everytime he forgets to say it.
And you believed you didn’t have to say it.
But you’ll be 13 someday and then 29 and people forget to tell you that they love you and the neighbourhood dog would bite you and birds would make fun of you in their morning songs.
And you won’t hear thunders, only lightening everytime it strikes
And your father would tell your mother he hates her
And you’d heard your veins out until your blood turn purple
For every lie you were ever told
And for every one that you believed

For flowers don’t change colours when lied to,
Do it enough times
And they wilt out and die.


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