My childhood occurred when I was small,
and left a large impression on my soul.
A paltry twenty years it ran, but all
its weeks survive in me. My self-control
my parents held as if they were trustees,
accusing me of none they could perceive,
until in disobedient degrees
I captured power and I took my leave.

Of course I’ll not forget my childhood;
the acid etches deepest on the new,
and none of us matures without its score.
But what was it my parents understood,
those years? Compared to me, they traveled through
accelerating presents they ignored.