I was the child that once said
“Does magic exist, or is it all in my head?”
The same one that slept with a bear
And had less than a half inch of hair.

The little ‘un that wanted peace
And to this day, that did not cease
So I hopped into the past to see myself again
And stared at my own self that was ten.

He giggled at my face that was odd to see
“What are those spots?” “That’s acne.”
And he asked if I had a girlfriend
But of course you knew how that story would end.

We walked down the street and talked for a while
When I asked about his friends, he wore a big smile
And told me there was absolutely nothing at all wrong
And I chuckled when he talked and played right along

He then asked me if I feared anything
I scoffed at this question and pretended it did not sting
He didn’t look so sure, and I swore before I left
That I left within him some feeling of bereft.

So I came back to my time and sat upon my chair
And ran a troubled hand throughout my tousled hair
Then suddenly, a flash in front of my eyes
And when the smoke cleared, I had one big surprise

I saw a young man of about twenty two
He had a mane of hair, down to his shoulders, mind you
And he looked a little tired, but I knew for who he was
As he cleaned his shirt of dust and fuzz

He stepped towards me and offered his hand
And I took it and shook it; though this wasn’t planned
And from behind his square glasses was a familiar look seen
And he was gone in an instant; left behind a very confused teen.