Where in the hell is my dawn?

I breathed two decades,
but I never knew how
time slipped in pale shades.

In my mothers cosy embrace,
I spoke my first word,
to her smiling face.

Papa held my hand,
when I took my first woobly step,
and started toward some unknown land.

I put on years and went to learn.
That day papa drove to school,
and on the way he said knowledge is what you earn.
There at the svhool-between the walls red,
I discovered and i was unfurled,
Picking on old pigeons dead.
I tasted potion,even survived venom.
I climbed peaks and looked down the dusty road,
I saw friends smiling from the cloud.
I floated around for a while and dad was proud!
Head held high, I was staring into the sun.
Never though anything could've gone wrong.

Then I grew my hairs long,
left home and slept in streets.
The answers blew in wind, I was a rolling stone
and life lost its meaning in flodded retreats.
I wrote in red and worshipped red,
I saw the world faintly oblong.
For years that counted to three,
I wasn't aware whether i lived or was dead.
When the dreams shattered and hunger hurt,
Papa pulled me out and made me stand again.
He held my hand and taught me to walk,
like he had done 15 years up-the-drain.
Watching mumma's weeping face, i fought against the pain
and with a fret tied myself again.
The colour within me was still red,
but dad wanted me to see the stars
and fly a thousands miles towards the west.
"Naah", said I and stayed in the alley.
"It'd be dark", warned my mom,
but only if I had heard to what she said.

And now I search for answers.
A million things I want to know,
Though for people around, I wear a mask
of smiley faces and they never know that
the once distant howls coming from below,
deafen my ears everyday.
The light, every morning,
blinds me and I don't see through the day.
Bullets from all the guns that I fired from the ghetto,
have come after me the way unknown hitherto.
Caught between the cobwebs of my past,
I lost her down the line and wept.
It gets a li'l better at night,
nobody knows me in the dark,
I hide and dream of the golden lark!
I fall asleep and dreams again come in reds,
I wake in screams, drenched in sweat.
Tossing in the bed i only want to be blinded again.
So with sleepless eyes wait for the morn.

Some days I dream,
to be a kid again and then
dad would teach me how to walk again.
Some days I dream,
to be in mother's lap again
and learn to speak,"mumma-mumma".
Some days i dream
of the fairy-tales my grand ma told at night,
and those walks with dadaji in the lawn.

But God is a dead word for me,
so I wish I could simply ask your god,
Where in the hell went my dawn?