once there was a time
where I stood upon the extremes of a city
and watched the clouds fade away

thrust into the world of adults
and fears and journeys and fool's hope
and it was enough, just enough

I wore my naivete like a silver scar
across my face, or a river
threading, winding, along the edges
of the map we didn't have
I wore it well

I fear getting old, and forgetting
who I really was
in the moments that truly mattered

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