Not The Same Poem by Barry Van Allen

Cold and frosted panes of glass,
Christmas trees of winters past,
the mantle piece with stockings hung,
I knew these things when I was young.

Poinsettia plants and mistletoe,
colored lights and falling snow,
precious times but soon let go,
it never is the same.

Thanksgiving day with turkey Tom,
hearing sounds of winter's song,
cold and falling fluffy stuff,
I never seem to get enough.

Saint Valentines and kids at play,
while waiting for another age,
up the ladder, one more rung,
I knew these things when I was young.

Summer days so slow and easy,
sailing kites when days were breezy,
toy trains and ' Monopoly ' games,
it's never been the same.

Playing baseball at the school,
and learning 'bout the golden rule,
trying hard to be so cool,
I must have looked like such a fool.

Learning how to drive a car,
and searching for a girl to kiss,
growing up seemed very hard,
I thought I'd never miss it.

So, now I never show the pain,
though growing older has it's strains,
I am staring at the falling rain...
just wishing I was young again.