what happened?

the sieve of memory holds the good
the wish-i-were-anywhere-else's
slide through openings that grow with time
until childhood is a breeze
puberty, a dream
high school, a fairy tale

no enemies
no boring days
no wishing for freedom
no when-i'm-a-grown-up's
perhaps it's better that way

not to have to answer
to our childhood selves

- Adam MacDonald