Once again I boroughed something. This time it's a line out of a song by "The Sundays", that's called "Wild Horses" that became a poem title.

Childhood Living

A playing child outside,
unaware of the future,
is thinking the world is wide,
but dreams will all come true.
And time passes by,
the child is getting older
and though no one knows why
the child still believes in good.
But the day will arrive,
be sure it will,
when the child's happy life
will be ended.
The happy days in the sun
will be swallowed by all day life,
the child will learn life isn't fun,
and become a dying soul.

But who cares? It's just one of thousands...

11-16-00