Once upon a time,

I used to dream,

My mind wandering in childlike exploration,

I ruled the world!

Without all the work…

Bright eyed and bushy tailed,

For a time just skipping through life.


Inevitably, my wanderings took on a pattern,

A predictable, repetitive sequence,

Over exposure,

To the same brilliant colors dulled them,

Springy skipping, became an apathetic saunter,

Dominated by casual and infrequent considerations.


The Utopian ideals that I once admired,

Morphed into a thing of imagination,

Banished to the  deeper recesses of ‘The Good Times’,

Such nostalgic irony it is to be the idealistic child,

Who grew up!


Amare Poeta





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