Never land,
Imagical.
Chasing pirates, playing chase, scraping skin on that concrete .
Where popsicles bleed out their short lifespans
Play sets and snow forts, an empire of our own design.
Spend days wasted in the woods, plotting schemes to rule the world.
Never land, it was just us.
And that's all there was, all we would ever need.
These days,
You gotta find,
Never land, all by yourself.
No one gonna hold your hand.
This is the real world kid, and you still gotta pretend.
Never land, comes in a few shots of whiskey.
Days spent away sacrificing to that misery.
Grab a few buds, meet cha' under the garage.
Never land, comes around with the pass of the solos cups.
With the swaps of screen shots.
These are the days when
The lost boys get found,
Snorting up that pixie dust.
Peter Pan grows up, in return Tinkerbell gives up.
It's time to grow up.
Paper..scissors..rock,
Ready or not, cause here it comes.
It's time leave this Neverland,
This Culve de sac.
YOU ARE READING
Symptoms
PoetryPoetry. Love. Happiness. Sadness. Depression. Guilt. Regret. Struggle and Confliction. We may all be breathing, we may all have our hearts beating. But these are our vital signs. These are symptoms that prove we're alive.
