When I was a child I thought like a child
I played like a child
I joked like a child
I smiled like a child
I had faith like a child.
At 9 years old I deemed it absolutely, one hundred percent necessary
to disassociate myself from every single childish way, thought, and action I had once held so dear.
From that day, I was never the same.
With that fateful action whence I destroyed my childish
thoughts, jokes, smiles, and faith I subsequently lost something. Big.
I lost my Goodnight Moon and the peaceful airs of that great green room
I lost my Little Engine That Could. Man, that guy. He understood.
I said goodbye to “I think I can, I think can.”
How could I do that, and think that was smart?
Cause at 9 years old I thought I had to be tough enough?
Had to be smart enough? Had to be old enough?
Well. I wish I could have told myself that day,
that every thought, every joke, smile, and ounce of faith I had as a child
I would spend a lifetime trying to get back. Trying to live again.
