Life used to be so easy when you were little.
I miss those days.
When everyone still loved everyone
and nobody died.
And pain was only physical
and never lasted long.
And you still believed They would
always love you
and take care of you
and protect you
and be good to you
and that They could do nothing wrong.
When everything was still possible
and imagination was infinite
and you didn’t have to think about
what to say or not to say.
When no one had ever really hurt you
and you still believed
that everything was good and beautiful.
And trust was something
you didn’t have to think about.
And you never had to worry about tomorrow
or about what you did or didn’t do
or say.
When you were always happy
and your entire face lit up
every time you smiled
because your smiles were always sincere.
When it didn’t matter
whether you could sing or not,
‘cause sing you would,
loudly,
and always laughing.
And playing with leaves in the fall
and in the snow in the winter
and picking flowers in the spring
and swimming in the summer.
And believing in magic
and talking dogs on TV
and swings
and teddybears
and drawing
and finger paint and play-doh
and bedtime stories.

Life used to be so easy when you were young…