You ask, "what do you miss about your childhood?"
Perhaps for insight you ask?
A secret path to the way of my mind
A peak you wish of who I am, and the thoughts I keep
Well, to be polite I'll answer your question
But i do not promise a key to my reason of being
I miss my father, throwing the veggies
Right out the window
When mom turned her back
I miss the challenge of the cookie jar
Way up high the refridgerator's top
A mission I had, that would be completed
I miss the strangers who'd stop and smile
'New friends!', I thought, what a child
I miss the simple things don't I?
Not really, not at all
They're all just pieces of my puzzle
The big picture you see is not as simple
I miss my innocence
I miss the easy answers
But, most of all, I miss my only worry being the cookie jar