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.