Life Began Poem by RoseAnn V. Shawiak

When I was young, playing with my dolls, pouring make-believe tea, there were no thoughts of growing up, I was too busy using my imagination.
Little did I know back then of the heartaches and trials my future was holding.
Memories play hauntingly, chantingly calling to mind.
Trying to recall at what age - the exact moment - I became aware of the world outside my little sphere and how it would affect me in later years.
I see tear-stained images looking, watching through the years.
When exactly did life begin to live for me?