When I was a sweet little thing
I wished to grow taller and older...
I thrived on the story teller's tales
their words woven into a net
where children were ensnared.
I dreamed of colouring my own life
wsith all colours on the painters pallette
I wanted to marry a prince
and play with the fairies.
and be a famous actor.
Then I hit the freeway to adult-hood
I realized there really were no fairy tales
its just a long road full of bumps and holes.
and childhood was actually bliss.
The fairytales and dreams, a child's refuge.
In Adult-hood, there is no true refuge.
I now have the gift of age and wisdom
and I see that childhood decays
like everything else in Nature's way.
A contest entry
- You Can Spark Your Muse, Everybody Welcomed by badnovocaine.
700 points, ended January 24, 22 entries
Honorable mention
• next poem in this contest, remove from contest
Please, what did you think, is there anything I could do to improve??
Comments
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What a beautiful and sad poem to a good title. I think you did this justice, and actually reminds me of myself, expect I refuse to stop believing!
Good poem here loved this.
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