My First Truth

At the age of five or so my mother and I crossed the west gate bridge. I cast my eyes out over the industrialized town and asked "mummy, what are they?" pointing to a factory. "they're cloud makers honey"
For months, I would cross that bridge and smile, those factories were there for good they made clouds a safe and soft place to rest, to land, to escape to.

But as those months passed I became curiouser and curiouser asking questions "do some factories make rain clouds mummy?" "what happens if the factories break down mummy?". It was only a matter of time I found out the cold and harsh truth...

My cloud makers were what were killing our earth? I welled up. I suppose oceans wern't made of happy tears either and the sun wasn't the sparkle in gods eye?

It was when I was five or so I learnt to handle the truth.