Remembering Youth

I remember you, little girl,

So carefree and unconscious of your own self,

You knew how to play, creating your rich life inside your head,

Which always led to hours flying by,

The adventures and expeditions

Warming you up like hot chocolate on a rainy day,

This was you, no question.

No need to ponder over your place or meaning,

Your imagination shone with no need for a change of batteries, forever gleaming.

Fast forward to your teenage years, a foggy haze of escaping your bedroom,

You long for connection, for touch,

You worry your inner world is just too much,

You push it away in order to clutch

At the illusion of 'cool'.

You push that little girl away and you say

'You're too young for me now'.

Your inner world gathers dust at the back of your mind - now you're a flurry

Of deadlines, careers and success.

You fill your breathing space with achievement, moving ahead.

Unaware that you have led

Yourself down a path of wanting.

Of purpose, of meaning, of longing.

You wonder why you feel so empty,

How could you, when you seem to have plenty?

How can you be bored of life at just gone 20?

You feel a tug at your sleeve; your little girl, covered in dust, whispers

'Brush me off and let's play again'.

By this point, a new friend has joined the team.

She asks you 'well, what's all this going to mean?'

What will you do to make sure you're being seen?

And of course, make it perfect, or you'll definitely be a has-been.

You suddenly say 'Stop!'

You remember the hot chocolate and feel the little girl tugging on your heart,

At first you're afraid to even start,

You put pen to paper, not knowing where it will go,

And suddenly everything starts to flow,

You feel all through your limbs that familiar glow,

Not giving a fuck that it's not for show,

Moving fast and then taking it slow,

Hours fly by and you didn't even know,

You stop. Full on life. Ready to play again tomorrow.