Away all childish things,
I never realized you’d left,
Until autumn's last leaf fell.
All the warmth,
Becoming bleak and bitter—
Closed and cold.
Are you truly gone?
—Or do I carry you still,
Tucked within my soul
Whenever I feel the warmth
Bubble up,
When I set free
All my glee,
Allowing my childhood To unfold,
For just a moment more.
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