When I was young, the roads were deserted ,dark and I was caged inside after sunset for no reason at all. Now there are lights, cameras, prying eyes and I am still caged with a little leeway in time. The war was won by them perhaps, they have invaded and annexed my personal space.
When I was young, my hands were held by innocence, bright like the sun, easy to read and fun to learn. Now, weirdly I feel free and deeper blemishes have been etched. The innocence is stained and I have my hands in oblivion gripped on to adulthood which I never wish to hold.
I was standing on the pyre of ageing childhood and birth of this adulthood. The seams were enjoyable in the offset unless the hold scarred my wrist with withering responsibilities and unending disappointments. I looked back at time, it was smirking at my fearful adhesion for the past. That was the time I knew, it was too late. Too late to live as life named herself complicated.
Within the core of the complexities I started weaving another web. I adapted they evolved.Leaves have started to fall before shedding their true colours. Mine would shed too,soon. Sun was still the same. I adapted they evolved. I wait to rise my head, I need our personal space. I may adapt but we must evolve.