Childhood
A poem about the change life brings.
I learned my life didn’t matter the older I got.
My birthdays became celebrated less,
my accomplishments treated
as everyday as the sun rising high.
My curiosity morphed into a song
that could never be sung.
My colorful doodles became as tedious
as cat hair in the middle of July.
Everything I knew and loved
became the weeds on the side of my house.
Reading books didn’t pay rent,
so why should I do it anymore?
How could I celebrate my birthday
when I needed to go to work?
What I wanted didn’t matter.
Thus, is the life of an adult.
This poem was inspired by the harsh reality that time creates change. A fact I wasn’t privy to as a child but became aware of as I progressed into adulthood. The ease of enjoying hobbies isn’t the same, nor having the time to explore them. I had no clue of the world valuing work over creation, and had to experience this the same as everyone else.
None of this means I don’t participate in my hobbies (after all, I am on this digital platform publishing poetry) but the way I interact with them has changed. It’s up to me to find value in the things that I create and find joy in the time spent doing them. Regardless of the external appreciation shown, I’m internally happy to still doodle and read books because that’s what I love!
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