I am older now.

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by TheWhisperingTrees

by TheWhisperingTrees

I am older now,

My hands, no longer red,
Covered in grass and grit.
They are no longer scraped
And bloody.

My shoelaces, no longer untied,
Untouched by my fathers hands.
From his hard and
Calloused fingers.

My ears, no longer filled,
With songs and stories,
My mother's sweet voice,
Turned corse from cigarettes.

My walls, no longer painted,
Plastered in colours.
They are white now.
Plain and boring.

I know now,

My healed hands,
My unfilled ears.
My tied shoes,
My plain walls,

That I am older now.
There are trees still left unclimbed.
The monkey bars still long for my touch.
The old football still craves to be kicked.
And summer, 8 years ago, is still waiting.