Discoveries I Make

Sometimes I find things I've written that I've forgotten I've written. Case in point (it has no title and I'm not sure I like it, but I'm intrigued by it nonetheless...I really wish I could remember when, exactly I wrote it):

Drifting through memory to way back when
we were young and the best of friends--
I was always Barbie, you were always Ken
and we thought that all good women loved good men.

You outgrew playing dolls with me,
said friendship wasn't a possibility;
You patted my should awkwardly,
walked away before I counted three.

A few years after you said goodbye,
you came back in tears to ask me why
I kept my chin up, didn't cry.
Why not even a wistful sigh...
But don't you know I struggled getting by?

Now look at you with your girlfriend.
She looks like Barbie, you look like Ken.
I wonder why I can't keep good men.
Why can't I keep good men?

When I thought of childhood, I thought of the first stanza of this poem. Childhood seems so simplistic. Everything seemed so easy back then. And now? Well, now it's just not.

Or perhaps I'm making adulthood more difficult than it should be. Maybe I can choose to make my adulthood as much like childhood as possible.

In a good way.


This post is part of the Blue-Beta Blog Coordination, a continuing series of content coordinated by theme or motif with posts from Confuzzled of I Keep Wondering, Gromit of The Dancing Newt, Redoubt of Redoubt Redux, Third Mango of Funkadelic Freestylings of Another Sort, Yarjka of Sour Mayonnaise, and Xanthippe of Let’s Save Our Hallmark Moment. This week's theme: 'Childhood'.