I remember how my mind would mindlessly roam how every after playtime my hands would be soaked in loam how I didn't see the world in monochrome how I thought I was always safe in the confines of my home.
I remember days when my world revolved around the stories I was told I knew not of what life may unfold; how it would be so cruel and cold.
The flower path that I tread on was laced with innocence and incorruption any trace of impurity, there was none before it grew barbs and awns.
I remember how I used to have impossible dreams how hallways would be filled with childish screams did the right things from what I seemed never once worried how it would all come apart at the seams.
The pictures I drew against my slowly depleting grade paper led me to see myself in something bigger; wanting to fulfill my new dream in mind, I was eager in becoming something that I would, after all, regret years later.