Innocence by Min Z.,605

Somehow, I have a single question.
Why?
I blush,
I beam.
Yet, I still have a question.
People treat me like
A little kid.
I want to be like everyone else.
Guilty,
Yet happy.
The stuff I don’t know,
It’s always a secret.
I question them,
I beg them,
But the answer is always the same.
I weep in sorrow,
Feelings of sadness and anger,
Dancing around in my mind.
I feel so left out,
Sometimes I want to shout.
The protection,
Of my innocence.
Why does it have to be done?
I’m eleven,
Yet I feel so immature.
I feel no pride,
For I can never glide.
I want answers.
I certainly don’t
Fancy being innocent.
Stop treating me like a baby,
Acting as if I were crazy.
The innocence is what you say,
But it will never truly be
Part of me.