Mournful Sorrow

When I was a little girl
I asked my mother what will I be
Will I be pretty?
Will I be rich?

When I was a little girl, I only saw that the world in a child’s view, full of bliss.
It was a child’s dream
Only in dream
Now
I am mature enough to understand the mournful sorrow
The pain deep inside my heart
Is now well hidden deeply
Only me knowing the down-like feeling as this pain
But I cannot understand this kind of strange lunacy
As if the bird with a broken wing
Can I go on flying in this foolishness world