I used to write of rainbows and sunsets and the boy with the bright blue eyes.
Lamented love and youthful scribblings were the secrets of my heart.

Pebbles and stones have pelted my mind and my words
As I've grown gray with maturity.
The pains of truth are real.

I long for those days when musings were simple and thoughtless.
Yet I know the written path of struggle is still comforted by the boy with the bright blue eyes.