As a kid I believed the moon was made of cheese.
With age I learned it's just a frigid rock.
As a child I remember gazing at stars, whispering please.
As though the universe could really hear me talk.
Rainbows were pure magic.
Each one held a *** of gold.
Growing up is inherently tragic.
Splendor becomes same old same old.
Oct 16, 2021
Oct 16, 2021 at 9:42 AM UTC
As a kid I believed the moon was made of cheese.
With age I learned it's just a frigid rock.
As a child I remember gazing at stars, whispering please.
As though the universe could really hear me talk.
Rainbows were pure magic.
Each one held a *** of gold.
Growing up is inherently tragic.
Splendor becomes same old same old.
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