Sometimes I wish I was little again.
Where the cure to all pain was a bandaid and a cherry popsicle.
Where the only bad people I knew of, were the ones in the movies with guns or knives,
not the people walking the streets of our everyday lives.
Where we didn’t have to think so hard, before every single word we said,
to make sure we weren’t offending anyone living or dead.
Where the sound of an ice cream truck cruising down the street,
meant that happiness and I were soon to meet.

Sometimes I wish I was little again.
Where I didn’t have to listen to every horrific problem in the world today,
because when they ask how I feel, I never know what to say.
Where bad dreams were the only thing that left me crying,
not the loved ones that I’m now old enough to understand are dying. 
Where a skinned knee was the worst pain I could ever feel,
Instead of going through constant ordeals.

Where life wasn’t like an everlasting roller coaster that never let me off.
But like all good things that come in life,
my youth has halted to an end.