I sit here dreaming in the furniture of my youth.
Happy dreams that established me.
Playing out in the warm wide sun.
Soldiers trekking through the garden known.
I’m older now but wish I could
Open the door and return back there.
Those happy days without end or sight
Of deadlines which haunt me now and bind my mind.
I see myself as once I was
Smile alight on a tender face
Knowing none of the bullshit which haunts me now.
Running amok with innocent imagination on fire
And the rockery a battlefield of happy toys.
I’d climb on windows and escape the mess
Of Lego strewn on bloodied floor
Walls of Hadrian crossed the room
And days were spent in battles grown.
Then came desktops and cassette radios all climbed by men in suits
Uniforms of war and guns of fun
Stretched high and thrust upon the shelves of books.
I’d spend my days in conquest or happy defeat
Knowing that tomorrow I would do the same.
No need for doubt, no need for pain,
No need to care what mankind did or died outside.
Freedom is the word which recalls my youth
Playing football in the local park or street
Climbing trees and laughing loud, reading books and making plans
I’m older now, but I escape to then, I return to the past to find myself.
He who’s lost in this frightening grown up world
One of death and hate & fear and sin
Not like the world in which I began.
A child stays fresh, his mind alive
Fighting dragons and playing games, being cops and stealing space
All these things & more I held so dear.
The if’s and buts and when’s or maybe’s
They were never words when I was young.
I owned the world & I was king
I was someone special, alive, unique
I was as big as my ego wished itself to be.
Could life ever be like that again?
~ aka: A Lament For The Old Days
*one song, one programme, was all it needed to send me into a spin today.
© ed simkins