When I was but a little boy,
I neither had a friend nor a toy.
It was such, but a silly thing,
A young outsider, looking in.
...
When I Was
When I was but a little boy,
I neither had a friend nor a toy.
It was such, but a silly thing,
A young outsider, looking in.
When I was but a little boy,
Peace in my soul was never far from me,
I would jump and shout with incessant joy,
Such was my happiness when I was but a little boy.
When I was but a little boy,
There were stories to tell, and dreams to dream.
We conquered many knights and seized many castles.
But now emptiness overwhelms this heart of mine.
I wonder where it is now,
The tears, and the smiles; the silly little cries, and the chuckling giggles.
How have they disappeared from the face of my heart?
I only hold on to hazy memories that faintly illuminate my heart.
Who I am,
Was but the inner man,
Who am I?
Is but the path I take today.
I look in the mirror, my eyes marvel at the reflection looking back at me,
The same euphoric zeal catches up with me, and I bubble with a girlish smile.
For I still dream dreams, and I see what others do not dare open their eyes to.
I clutch tightly for this the core of my being.