How do the dreams of childhood,
Of knights and princesses,
Change to this:
A world of schedules,
And constant stressful thoughts?
Let me go back,
To thinking like a kid,
To wanting to be a superhero,
Back to the sunny days outside.
Where I could do anything.
Where I had no care in the world.
YOU ARE READING
Who's Heart is This Anyway
ŞiirJust some poems that I come up with on my own time... Here's a sample of one in the book: We were a kaleidoscope of colors, Twisting and turning, At every possible moment. A new masterpiece at every view.
