Precious Innocence

I miss my young and innocent days,

I miss the fun in my imaginative maze,

Jumping through tunnels lined in hoola hoops,

And turning soap and water in to decadent soup,

I miss the moutains made out of foam,

And my pirate patch sown to my phone,

I miss the pure joy of climbing shelves,

And swimming through oceans of rough sweedish nails,

I ran away from the sharks in the tar,

And made it across the bridge in the stars,

I would find life in the half broken gate,

And follow people pretending thier lives were at stake,

But now my maze is hazy...

Full of dead ends and maybe's,

The tunnels in which i once embedded my smiles are now full of unknown face...dragging me to unknown place,

The harmless soupy water aided the wrinkles of my heart,

But what do you do when soup isn't for the soul?

I was lite free of burden...the shelves held me up,

The pieces are now matted there shards of my feelings,

There was once a time where battling the waves was fun,

Now they drown me right underneath the sun,

And now I stare with vicious eyes,

At a child whose innocence resembles mine...