I miss the days when time was soft,
when minutes stretched like rubber bands
and the sky felt closer to my hands.
Back then, laughter didn’t ask permission,
it just spilled
on dusty roads, on scraped knees,
on evenings that smelled like rain and food cooking inside.
I miss how problems were small enough
to hide behind a door
or disappear after sleep.
How tomorrow was a word, not a weight.
How happiness lived in broken toys,
shared secrets,
and the sound of my name being called from outside.
Childhood was a place
where the world hadn’t taught me fear yet,
where my heart was loud
and my dreams didn’t whisper.
Now I carry it quietly inside me
a faded photograph,
still warm,
still waiting to be remembered.
Feb 7
Feb 7, 2026 at 2:04 AM UTC
I miss the days when time was soft,
when minutes stretched like rubber bands
and the sky felt closer to my hands.
Back then, laughter didn’t ask permission,
it just spilled
on dusty roads, on scraped knees,
on evenings that smelled like rain and food cooking inside.
I miss how problems were small enough
to hide behind a door
or disappear after sleep.
How tomorrow was a word, not a weight.
How happiness lived in broken toys,
shared secrets,
and the sound of my name being called from outside.
Childhood was a place
where the world hadn’t taught me fear yet,
where my heart was loud
and my dreams didn’t whisper.
Now I carry it quietly inside me
a faded photograph,
still warm,
still waiting to be remembered.
the quiet sadness of growing up and realizing that childhood happiness was simple, unforced, and temporary. because that version of life cant be returned to.... only remember.
