When I was young I wanted a moral compass
to clearly point the way to right or wrong.
Couldn’t afford the brand new latest model;
I got one used that barely limped along.
When I was young I wanted honest answers;
more than “because” to placify a why.
Couldn’t believe the truth was never simple;
it seemed so complicated when I lied.
When I was young I fell in love in minutes;
anything almost mine became my joy.
Didn’t believe there might be something better;
whether a friend, a dog or a new toy.
When I was young I longed for a different story;
those that I read convinced me I was due.
Couldn’t escape the allure of those pages;
nothing alerted me they were not true.
When I was young, they gave me a moral compass;
told me to travel where it said was good.
Couldn’t resist the pull of other places:
well off the path, deep back in the briar and wood.
When I was young, I never found any answers;
maybe my questions were not the proper kind.
Never believed there was nothing beyond the edges:
out in the world, where everyone sails blind.
When I was young, I never thought I’d get older;
each passing year seemed like an immense surprise.
Couldn’t believe the slow and painful process:
everything grows a little while, then dies.
22 JUN 2012
