Eight Poem by Akshaya Asphyxia

Standing in the rain, cold and wet,
Away from home, away from comfort,
Stood there for a while,
Couldn't help but cry,
Liars shouldn't lie, I was eight.

Still out there, watching the sky,
As it slowly clears of its' grey clouds,
There was a person walking towards
Me, and they looked so familiar.
It was my mother, I was eight.

She said she was sorry,
But I wouldn't forgive,
Asked her why she lied
To me about my fish,
She didn't want to dissapoint, I was eight.

I finally understood that
Sometimes lying is good,
If someone really cared,
They might lie here and there.
Walking towards my house with my mom.

I was eight.