When the Magic Died
The laughter of a child, so innocent so pure,
Renews all hope for mankind and a reason as to why it should endure.
The laughter of a child, so innocent so pure,
If only it could be bottled would make the perfect cure.
The tender touch of a baby as it reaches for a face,
With tiny little fingers exploring a new and foreign place.
With eyes that speak so many words,
In a language so few have heard.
A child knows no bitterness, nor hatred is it bound,
These tiny gifts from heaven are everywhere to be found.
With undying trust they follow our lead until the magic goes away,
And they lose all sight of what they had and choose no more to play.
And as that unseen door opens and they walk so quickly through,
They suddenly join the ranks of adulthood just like me and you.
Once you cross this thresh hold in life you cannot turn around,
Your childhood now becomes only a memory where better days were found.
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