Childhood
It appears as a distant memory, my childhood,
so much have I forgotten,
and woe be that I grew up so fast
and while the trees will still be there when I go,
how I wish I could admire them more.
Of childhood, few remember much,
there isn't a thing so sublime and wonderful
and yet so easily left behind as childhood
and looking out the misty glass, in all solitude I ask
what was my childhood?
Was it a distant dream of endless wonder
at the small intricacies of the delightful world?
Or a myriad of colors, a kaleidoscope
with but 2 small eyes to capture?
Was it an alternate world, a blessed realm
of ceaseless curiosity and boundless imagination
contained in a small child's mind?
A world when time stopped, and we shrunk
to the dimensions of the lifeless toys we so happily breathed life into,
a world when we knew not what balances or cheques meant,
and deadlines and schedules unheard of.
Yes, that was my childhood,
and woe be that I cannot live it again.
Contest: A Contest on Aging
Sponsor: Emile Pinet
Dated: 13 June 2019
Copyright © Abhishek Suresh | Year Posted 2019
Post Comments
Poetrysoup is an environment of encouragement and growth so only provide specific positive comments that indicate what you appreciate about the poem. Negative comments will result your account being banned.
Please
Login
to post a comment