When did my childhood go? Was it the day I ceased to be eleven, Was it the time I realised that Hell and Heaven, Could not be found in Geography, And therefore could not be, Was that the day! When did my childhood go? Was it the time I realised that adults were not all they seemed to be, They talked of love and preached of love, But did not act so lovingly, Was that the day! When did my childhood go? Was it when I found my mind was really mine, To use whichever way I choose , producing thoughts that were not those of other people but my own, mine alone Was that the day! Where did my childhood go? It went to some forgotten place, That's hidden in an infant's face, That's all I know.
Humans are protected from poetry. Poetry expresses the substance or business of the universe in such a way as if they start dancing in front of the eyes of matter or business. They appear idolized. There is no need to work with wisdom to discuss their superiority or success. The inspiration of the poem makes the flow of emotions flow louder. This means that poetry is an excellent tool to stimulate emotions.