Child

Those golden days are nothing but memories now.

bright-eyed youth

This is the bright-eyed youth.

village dreams

In this infinite place, I promise you forever.

somnus

It is dark in my dreams.

encore

at night, the encore begins to play.

childhood

the clumsy fingersof childhood reach for the stars – hopes of the unreal i’ve been reading The Little Prince by Antoine de Saint-Exupery. yes, it is a children’s book. yes, it is a wonderful book to read. the morals, pure innocence, and emotions that radiate from its pages… it makes you realize that childhood was

nostalgia

on the scratchy grassdigging past the thick layers of her windbreaker,arms spread, eyes disbelieving,dark sky filled with pinpricks of light – were the stars taped on? – glimmering and shining and dreaming,to see constellations tell the mighty storiesof the fallen,to see the galaxy in which they belonged topast the smoke of the city,cloudy fear and

peter pan

i want to stay in the land of sun,the land with no rain,where it is all fun and games,laughter and child’s play. i want to stay in the land of smiles,where our feet can walk milesand never feel tired,with boundless energy like the Nile. i want to stay in the land of no worries,where finance