Gentle Growth
Gentle whispers of the yesteryears, so faint,
They dance upon old memories awaked.
Through the laughter and the sorrowful constraints,
We grow, from all the chances that we take.
From carefree youths to beings more composed,
With every scrape, a lesson's etched in skin.
Time, it seems, through endless flow, proposed
A path where once our childhood had been.
Now look upon the mirror's honest face,
With each new line, a clearer self we meet.
While fond remembrance holds its gentle grace,
Growth is life's most bittersweet defeat.
Fields of Change
In fields of green, where we did play and run,
Beneath the wide, embracing sky of blue,
Our shouts and cheers, where life had just begun,
Echo yet, as childhood bids adieu.
Those fields, now silent, hold the tales of shoes,
That kicked up dust and ambled through the dew.
In their sacred silence, they infuse
Wisdom in growth, both for the old and new.
As seasons pass, the fields may overgrow,
But in our hearts, their verdant hues remain.
Within each soul, the seeds of yore we sow,
Sprouting through time's relentless, earnest gain.
Hallways of Change
Through the hallways of our fleeting youth we roam,
Echoing footsteps in an endless chase.
With the ticking clock, our shadows home,
In the growing light of adulthood's embrace.
These walls have seen the spectrum of our fears,
Carved initials, a testament of time.
In the whispers of our formative years,
Lie the transformation, silent and sublime.
Once vast and daunting, now these halls seem small,
As we step out to the world's grand stage.
Growth's architecture stands proud and tall,
In the heart of every coming-of-age.
