Year One:Mindgames

The scarecrow of the garden was a scared one.
The people cast their tides aside.
The child yet unafarid.
In the light of day, there is hope of life and crawling upon blankets.
Seemingly normal denizens of this world.
They are not. At night experimented and changed inside and out.
Some cry out and their brains are forever changed to be as complex as the
makers of age, those who are so well in age theirselves can or could have.
At such youth or at such study.
I am tired. I see the lives of living and I want home!
I want home.