do you hear that?
it's the sound of you;
what you once were at
five and six and seven
and eight, the ages where grades didn't
matter but what time recess
was did.
(you were this scrawny little kid with imagination so powerful it probably would've blown us all away if it could.)
do you hear that?
it's your mom yelling at you
to do the goddamn dishes and you
say yes, mom for what must be the
hundredth time but even still,
she yells. she yells and yells
so much you want to
move far far away from here,
like the balloon -- you
want to float away like a cloud, wisps trailing away in the wind.
(you curse the high heavens and wish for a ticket to grow up, because being an adult sounds a hell of a lot better than being just a kid.)
do you hear that?
you're making plans to grow on up,
plans to get the hell outta here,
not realizing you're signing a death warrant -- your own.
(your hands are bloody because you killed that little kid inside of you and you're smiling because you think you've won.)
do you hear that?
neverland is calling,
and so is peter and wendy
and the lost boys and tinkerbell --
calling for the little kid inside of you.
stay a kid, stay a goddamned kid,
because you'll blink
and suddenly you realize that
being an adult
is a lot fucking harder than you
thought.
(the funny thing about neverland is you always want to leave, and when you leave, you always wish you'd stayed.)
