Born Golden

Born golden, I cried , smiled , laughed Then ran ,walked , talked Innocence was my gift stolen By the cloud dressed in black Known as growing up The old trap As leaves turn golden before winter Is approaching, Humans are natures' controversy, As we are born golden then Turn cold and selfish, Just like the colour grey Unknown of it's real presence. Yet frozen I cry, smile , laugh Then run , walk , talk Still the same. But no longer golden. Andrea Beyer