April rain pouring down with thunder,
caught at a red light; few notes on the radio
and you’re transported into the endless
and careless summer days you’ve had
as a child. Roaming the forests
and meadows in solitude.
You dealt with things as you knew how,
nobody there to hold your hand;
People came and went,
like passengers on the train.
With memories we built
stain glass castles through which
we’ll be looking our whole life.
The colourful shades shadowing
our adult days. Only once
do we walk the path of childhood.
Yet we can revisit anytime;
Peace comes with accepting.
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