Paper Castles

We were poor kids with paper castles in our heads and dirt on our feet,

Looking up to adults too headstrong to kill their deceit.

We played games in haunted sheds and climbed on fragile rooftops,

Chasing the one thing to bring us peace when the laughter stops.

We were just kids, throwing rocks into puddles and at shiny cars,

Spinning in circles just to see some constellations in dying stars.

We led battalions through neglected lawns towards a victory,

And we wasted away the last years when we could live a fantasy.

I was a dreamer back then, stuck in my perfect little lagoons.

Secretly they all knew I was meant to grow up a decade too soon.

As the others explored every nook and cranny of our neighborhood,

I slipped through the cracks and signed away my youth for good.

But I was just a kid, so I did not second-guess or mourn the loss,

Although the childlike glee of others stung, I carried it like a cross.

They were poor kids back then, too young to be scared or scorned,

Too naïve to know what it feels like when the paper castle is torn.

-JW