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