Untitled MAG

By Unknown, Unknown, Unknown

   It was a child's game - biking through

yesterday's puddles in an '80s version

of a ten-speed.

It was a child's game - spraying one

another with imaginary disinfectant

after a boy touched you.

It was a child's game - slapping hands

and reciting annoying jingles you

learned from friends.

It was a child's game I played today

But it was not one I entirely regretted

For sometimes the past needs to repeat

itself,

And we must act like harmless fools we

once were.





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