I miss being a kid
when words on a paper
was second nature,
And whenever I would rhyme
I could blow people's minds
But now I can't find the words
to pass the time,
Small talk.

Don't ask how the weather is.
It's great,
Because Mother Nature doesn't **** up,
unlike what you might think,
Louisiana,
California,
Thailand,
Natural Disaster.

That's what we want to claim to be,
But we're products of society,
culture,
and we root for to children to stop,
to grow up,
realize your dreams aren't what they seem,
Backup plans.

I never had any,
Now I don't have a go to,
because I was told I would go nowhere,
with paper and pen,
Poetry.

I miss being a kid.