When they brought it from the attic
It’s dust and dirt still shined
It’s sink, stove and toaster
all brought back a universe of memories.
I’d flip fake burgers and make coffee in the morning
Now my job has brought that dream into reality.
It seemed so much bigger back then,
but It was just me who was knee high to a grasshopper.
That was when my sister and I played together,
all day long without school or friends to worry about.
We were all each other needed.
When time only went too slow.
When I couldn’t spell Mississippi.
When my Fisher Price Kitchen
came to life.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
Them old things in the attic make life real