That naive optimism that children adopt is what I'm jealous of.
Climbing tall trees, not understanding the true meaning behind the "be careful"s shouted by worried parents and the shattering consequences that would come if a branch broke.
Broken promises between best friends about becoming each other's bridesmaids and naming your kids after each other when these days I doubt our kids would even know each other's names.
Under-the-covers, fragile recitings of ghost stories spread like Chinese whispers around playgrounds.
Spitting rude words like bible quotes and laughing at everyone's offended faces.
Sneaking kisses from pretty pigtailed girls wearing pretty pink dresses that their mothers forced them into.
Crushing sand castles with small but stompy feet and grinning wildly when sand flies into bystander's eyes.
They have no knowledge of mitochondria and Christmas still makes their stomachs turn with excitement.
And I wish I could steal their world.
Their wondrous, wondrous world.
February 20th 2018 22:17
YOU ARE READING
late night words
Poesíaboppity boppity boo I'm tired here's a couple of poems that I have attempted to write sleep well and cheers to the night
