(1)
That lost kingdom never shall be regained
All the thrill of a sprightly morning shave
Shall never quite equal that radiant runny nosed innocence.
The magic I try to live down
With all kinds of (empty) rational criticism
Yet it bursts forth more magical than ever before.
And that redeeming touch of your hand
Shall be ever elusive
Except for some rapturous dream at dawn.
(2)
There was in those days the assurance
That anything you achieved was just a bonus
Over and above your belonging.
As a child I scorned my toys,
Longed to be judged by the world around,
Not just as me,but as one
Who has achieved something of note.
Now that I find the air thick with judgements--
Teachers,friends,the man in the street--
Oh!the yearning to be once more
Nothing more
Or less than me.
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