I miss the innocence of my youth
when I never had to worry about the truth.
Going out to play and have fun;
not knowing the real world had begun.
As I sit and work
feeling as if swallowed by a giant shirt,
I wish I could escape and be free.
If I could, I’d go sit in a tree.
Now, everyone I know doesn’t understand
what I wish I still had in the palm of my hand.
I wish I could go out and play
but I’m too old, they say.