In the middle of the green fields
I was alone,
I was in reverie
Thinking, dancing, mumbling
Existence was soft
Was as easy as picking scented flowers
Nectar filled plants
Listening to bees
Tasting the grass
Hearing the wind whispering
My dreams of growing up
Got caught up in spider’s webs
And playing games
Was not for wining, was not for losing
Running around
Stealing fruits
The value of goods
Was in sharing
Children on the streets
Jumping in the rain
Building bridges in the mud
The sweet taste of childhood
Lies in its simplicity.