Change.

I miss the days
of innocence
and tea parties
and teddy bears
and power rangers
and fighting over crayons.

I miss the days
of being nieve
and boy germs
and the days when a mothers hug
would fix everything that was wrong in the world
when she wouldn't let go untill i did.

I miss the days
when everything was so new
so bright
so special and wonderful
when i sharpened my pencil so carefully.

These days my pencil is blunt
my sky is dull
boy germs are very real
my mother holds me, but i don't feel it
my tea parties have turned into silent family dinners
and no one remembers the white power ranger.