my heart aches
for a time that i remember,
when everything was bright,
like the photographs.
when i cared not what i didn't know,
and i didn't know what i should.
when the faces smiled,
and sometimes cried
but the tears were pure
and undefiled.
life was simple,
life was sweet.
happy. joyous.
but incomplete.
life was young then
too young to be clear
but in a fuzzy glass appears.
so ideal. too ideal.
yet to that time,
i long to steal.