Growth

Inside the child stirred.
Not so childish anymore.
Something lost, something gained.

It isn't the same as before.
Colours aren't as bright.
Blurry eyes were sharpened.
The world lost its playfulness.

Unlike the caterpillar, it's battling change,
Blinded to wonders that might occur.
As sometimes treasures are hidden,
shrouded in garbage and rust.

Is it truly unfair,
this continuation,
the unyielding gait of time,
or what we failed to see?

A wisdom is gained,
when we open our eyes,
and behold the purpose
that encompasses life.