Still Looking for Childhood
I’m still young,
yet I keep searching for my childhood.
Funny, isn’t it?
I sit with Papa,
and listen to Grandpa’s stories—
their world felt freer than mine.
Why was I born
in this new generation?
We are Gen Z,
lost in screens,
in fake love,
in quiet rooms.
I want to run outside,
to feel the sun, the dust—
but I’m stuck
inside four walls.
Still, somewhere inside,
I want to run barefoot...
But I don’t know what I’m missing—
but it hurts like it was mine once.
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