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Rated: 13+ · Poetry · Inspirational · #1750599
A piece inspired by the innocence of childhood, and the pain of becoming a man.




CENTER STREET


There's a box I keep under my bed,
I built it when i was eight years old.
Because I knew a day was going to come,
When I'll have to move along.
It contains my childhood thoughts
And the best friend I ever had.
He is a teddy bear, and I love him.
I was smarter when I was a little boy.
When I wanted to dig up dinosaurs,
And my toys kept me company.
I played with them every day
Because I always had control.
I never played well with others,
So I usually played all by myself.
No one could feed my imagination,
Which is why I never shared much.
I lived like this, until middle school
Where I learned that people change.
Because toys were for children.
If you had them, you were a little kid.
But I was still a child and so were they.
So I went home and played as usual,
as Everyone else pretended they didn't.
But I knew the day was coming fast,
when I wouldn't be so content.
I lived like this until the summer came.
The summer before eighth grade,
When all the other teenage explorers
were out giving and relieving
oral pleasures for the first time.
as I was at home, peaking in that box
I made when I was eight years old.
I still wanted to dig up dinosaurs.
I would tell my friend i still love him,
and I would breathe in the nostalgic air
that used to put me to sleep every night.
Then I would put him away and feel again,
and that feeling made me smile again.
I lived like this until I became a man.
While I developed like everyone else,
I never forgot to remember myself.
I kept my childhood from being lonely,
so i peeked at It again last night.
I told my friend I loved him very much
while that nostalgic smell bloomed beautifully
between us as I hugged him and cried.
but I don't smile the same anymore,
because I'll never dig up dinosaurs
and that the impossible had been met;
That I had become the man I looked up to.
I never did very well in school,
because I learned differently.
I learned about myself and others...
I learned that leaving yourself behind
Is a disease beyond a cure.
That a friend is only a cure for boredom
as they search for the love of their life.
And that they will fade from your life
when they finally find that person.
You'll never see that friend again,
Until you think of all of the good times
you shared in the early years they've forgotten.
and those old places I once loved
had fallen victim to weeds and silence.
So I stare at them as I pass by
and wonder if a day will ever come
that I will be under those weeds
In a box, alongside my old friends
as our nostalgia blooms from below
and restores beauty and youth
to the places everyone left behind.
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Printed from https://www.writing.com/main/view_item/item_id/1750599-Center-Street