I jump down the last three steps,
like I always do
racing forward once I land.
I am unaware
I do not care.
Learning 123s and ABCs.
Playing peekaboo,
and leaving the door open just a crack
to let the light in,
and the monsters out.
A stuffed animal under arm
slowly drifting to sleep
This is when dreams form
a time to purely believe and create.
Searching for a shooting star
And make a wish.
It will come true
It has to.
You were once me.
 
I jump down the last three steps
sometimes only two
I used to race forwards,
but I find myself slow
once I hit the ground.
Becoming aware.
But I still don’t care.
Friendship bonds form.
Monsters are no longer real.
Shooting stars stop working.
Dreams expand
Dreams seem real.
Achievable.
Stuck thinking in the future
wondering and hoping
what I will become.
You were once me.
 
Walking down the stairs
with my friends
approaching the end
I am confronted with a choice
do I walk down the last three steps?
Or do I jump?
I want to jump
but I walk down the last three
I do care.
 
I walk down those last three stairs
not thinking twice,
but walking straight ahead.
I have stopped searching
for shooting stars.
I have stopped living
completely
carefree.
I am now you.