P is for Purity

This is another drabble that turned into a poem instead.  Once again, it's still exactly 100 words.  It just came out as a poem.  I can't always control what results from my creative madness.

The inspiration for this came from frustration.  I've seen so many people who are judged harshly for their past, often unjustly, and the results can be devastating for some.  We are none of us perfect.  The experiences we have had may not win the approval of all, but for better or worse, they've made us who we are.

Purity

White dresses, flowers,

     golden

     childish dreaming.

Innocent you must

     remain,

     they all command.

As you grow, you

     learn,

     human needs prevail.

In a moment, it’s

     undone,

     childhood is over.

A burgeoning wisdom,

     unfolds,

     takes root within.

Life is not so

     simple

     as others pretend.

Yet others persist,

     learning

     of your knowledge.

Tainted, unclean,

     filthy,

     the insults fly.

Who would want you

     dirty

     as you now are?

The judgments come

     one

     by one, cutting.

Words fill your life,

     you

     cannot escape.

They taunt you, judge,

     define

     and it takes a toll.

Some will not rest until,

     broken,

     you agree with them.