The dense forest of my memories,
Covered with the fog of present.
Happy moments of my childhood,
And the funny thing;
I wanted to be like them.
Like those teenagers and adults I saw,
Enjoying through the day freely,
with hardships unknown.
When cigarette were some adult lollipops,
I thought,
Drugs were cold medicines my papa bought.
Curling in my father’s lap, like a tiny girl,
The past me thought growing up wasn’t tough.
This fog of present sheds away,
I could again see me and my father play,
It’s true; people leave, but remember,
Memories hold on, they always stay,
To make you feel home again,
Even if you are away.
-A.D.
