Seemingly time has passed me by,
Came and went, all surprised.
So I’ve tucked away my coloring books
And plastic dolls,
Said my last goodbyes.

In a box under my bed lies the past:
Japanese CD’s, teen poetry, baseball cards—
Gone are my childhood years in a spark,
Placed into darkness where they shall stay
Where only the dust can touch.

Soon my yearbooks, Christmas ornaments, photos
All leave my mind, quickly like time;
I leave this city, my home, my other life
As time never seems to slow
But rather speed in motion.

Though if I ever choose to return
(No promises made there)
To my past home,
And walk up the creaky dust-inhabited stairs
To my childhood room,
I’d look under the blue blanket-clad bed
And I’d see that
Nothing really had ever changed.