When you're a child, Life is in technicolor But as you grow older A film of grey gradually wears the color away Dampening your senses Until your synapses weaken, burdened by drudgery
You become all mind Deciphering all of the time Caged by contemplation, Causing a slow soul erasure
I want to feel what it's like to be a child again To be fully present and aware of every felt sensation But my body is tired, And with fatigue the mind becomes a narrowed point Of seeking to meet the most basic of needs: Work, Sleep, Eat On an endless rotation, Leaving no time for child-like play.