What is life? A growing ledger of what we lost?
We lost our innocence as we took that first step into ‘maturing’,
That all-too-important word life threw at us for safekeeping,
Which children are blissfully unaware of in their carefree ways and childish rows,
Tidbits from that chapter named childhood, some laughter, some mischief, forever stored…
And then the seasons run their course, the children grow
The sun steals a quick peek into their now matured hardened soul
Is their laughter now lined with grief, the rows with real fights?
Sometimes with the enemy outside, sometimes with friends within, shunning out the light
A sigh escapes the sun. The clouds shield her grief from the rest of us.
A tear is shed. Rains caress the sky and the earth.
And like the hand of a caring soul on our head,
Whispers, “Such is life. Stories run. From start to end.”
