Essy The Poet

There is a child, trapped in every person, struggling to break free! Dreaming dreams, craving balloons, challenging norms, ghee! But you are too tall for hide and seek, high breasted too to hopscotch, Too fat to climb trees, imprisoned in adult cocoons. But may be the vistas are not all shut after all, Let the ancient wounds, oozing pus heal. For when I speak for the African child, I speak for the little one within you too.     The kite is high, stretching out the panorama To a sea of digital space, information upon information. Choking us with its opulence.   A blessing? A Curse? A mix of both? Well, the internet blesses us if we use it right.   Looming are the digital demons, beware! Cyber bullying, identity theft, addiction, child pornography, Soliciting the minor, sexual abuse, many are the dangers Yet, does abuse bridle the use? Such a ruse!     The African child must enjoy, the digital space just as much. She must proper into adulthood,