the repetitive days grow tiring
so extremely uninspiring
as i remember the times when things were so simple
where we had smiles so big you saw dimples
the dusty chalk left on the porch stairs
the house's unfinished repairs
the creak of the wooden doors
the kitchen's tiled floors
the chipped paint on the walls
and none of it bothered me at all
my mind held no worries
my heart was never in a hurry
oh, to go back to the days
my teary eyes look back in a gaze,
looking back on the shadow that it once was
i want my adrenaline rushing from running too fast
i want the green stained knees from sliding on the grass
i want to taste the salty tears on my cheeks from scraping my knees
i want the calluses from climbing sticky trees
i want the brush burn from going down the static-feeling slide
even if the bruises and scratches make me cry
i would go back in a heartbeat
because those days were oh so sweet
being a kid on Grape Street
©L.F.
Mar 29, 2020
Mar 29, 2020 at 2:27 AM UTC
the repetitive days grow tiring
so extremely uninspiring
as i remember the times when things were so simple
where we had smiles so big you saw dimples
the dusty chalk left on the porch stairs
the house's unfinished repairs
the creak of the wooden doors
the kitchen's tiled floors
the chipped paint on the walls
and none of it bothered me at all
my mind held no worries
my heart was never in a hurry
oh, to go back to the days
my teary eyes look back in a gaze,
looking back on the shadow that it once was
i want my adrenaline rushing from running too fast
i want the green stained knees from sliding on the grass
i want to taste the salty tears on my cheeks from scraping my knees
i want the calluses from climbing sticky trees
i want the brush burn from going down the static-feeling slide
even if the bruises and scratches make me cry
i would go back in a heartbeat
because those days were oh so sweet
being a kid on Grape Street
©L.F.
