Full of colors
like a child full of fantasies,
dreams and hopes still to fulfill.
A kid cannot tell reality from actuality.
And daydreams fill every child's head.
There so happy and full of joy,
why cant we be like them to?
did we grow out of it all?
and forgot how we use to be when we grew?
and why does it seem so hard to find?
The best thing is there wasn't a care in the world,
we broke things, bashed people, and yet
it was all fun and games.
Feelings come and go, now there harder to let go.
Everyone was a best friend, and no one walked out,
hurt you badly, or died.
Grandpa was asleep, and i hoped he'd wake soon to come see me, but he never did.
And the truths hurt less then rather then now,
and all lies were promises believed.
But as we grew we understood one thing,
we finally saw what life was becoming,
and what it truly meant then,
and what it means now..
