A poem
When I was as tiny as my old self.
It feels like a dream within a dream,
To know I was once a swinger,
A swinger without a dream.
All I knew was how to linger,
And destroy things to some extreme.
I wish I could be present,
In those cradle days,
When I pant with amusement,
After some little plays,
Of enjoyment.
Up at the sky,
I see star shapes,
When I jump high,
I feel my tiny self in different shapes,
To know I can't overfly.
Like a timbre of musical sound,
It comes very beautiful,
In my heart,it astound,
Then I scuffle,
With surprise to what I newfound.
Written by udohokon
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Thanks alot...