When I was young and simple
I never understood why and when
Adults lost their color
When and how did growing up
Into an autonomous being
Become the wasting away of eccentricity?
Until that is
I grew up
And saw first hand how it happens
Gradually, you begin to dull
Until you look around the world
And realize the color has all but vanished
Every step along the way
To "growing up"
Means at every stop, you must sell another piece
At every station along your life
You have to shave off another slab
Another offering, to get you "back on track"
Until you finally made it!
As retirement nears
You begin to remember that basket
Full of all the childlike wonders
You cut off to get you where you are now
And it pains you
Retirement finally comes
And you are handed back that basket
With all the once glowing ideas
But it feels heavy
And foreign
And what was once the inspiration of your entire existence
Is now dull and grey
And so are you
Who sold all the imaginations and innocence
To grow up.