Heirlooms of the good old days

Bring us closer to our infancy

Though carefree and easy

Memories lack consistency


When our world was but a playground

We were fresh in our naiveté

But soon a jarring moment

Makes us see things in another way


No more do we skip about

And smile at every stranger

The Technicolor fades a bit

Once introduced to danger


It’s then that we begin our course

Of trying to return

To the days we spent in sunlight

Without seeming e’er to burn


We suffer through the cyclone

Of an unforgiving world

Hoping one day we’ll reemerge

A windswept little girl

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