There's an ache in my chest
Nagging me without rest
Deep in my soul
Buried in my breastI don't want to leave my childhood behind
All those dreams and fantasies
That used to be mineAll those books were my world
Magic lands in which I swirled
Pulling me back
Fingers gripping the spines, curledI don't want to leave my childhood behind
All those dreams and fantasies
That used to be mineBut what if I can bring them with me
Then my childhood self will see
They aren't dreams
But hopes and passions for a life to be.
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Thoughts and Poems are the Same Thing
PoetryAn ever growing collection of poems (thoughts) about everyday life and the world around us.