Was, still… the end

When I was two years old,
My life was as simple as desired.
I was asleep most of the day
And when I wake up it was mainly to eat.
As soon as I opened my eyes,
I would look around, amazed,
And stare at the faces encircling me;
They would be all smiling.
I used to laugh at the meaningless expressions;
I used to grin for nonsensical words,
For senseless clutter, tuned and sweetened.
I didn’t understand the smirks, the sniggers
Yet never minded to smile back
(Though startled, though distraught,
I didn’t mind.)
It was enough for me to know that I’m safe,
That I’m fed, showered and breathing.
I knew their songs were aimless,
I knew their comforting jumble was hollow
And I knew their stories were absurd.
But I forgave the leering, the sneering
And the gentle touching.
You see, I ate, I slept
And I was securely breathing, living.
I am finished with the diapers now,
But other than that, nothing has changed.
I still know but ignore,
I still forgive and bear.
But most of all, I still breathe, eat
And behind a silly smile,
Gag a spirit, doubting, questioning and refusing.