Perhaps your childhood ends.
I mean truly, really Ends.
With a large, capital E.
When you no longer celebrate
The day you were born.
But instead, you flee.
Tag: Childhood
The Lemon Tree
When I was nothing more than just a child,
The Lemon Tree was happy notes and dance.
I would skip around with the melody in mind,
A song purely delightful, at first glance.
But as I became older and the lyrics became clear,
I realised how tragic they were.
Bitterness and tears, caught in song,
And I don’t know which version I prefer.
But then again, sad as it is,
Perhaps it’s part of growing up.
When The Lemon Tree stops being sounds,
And becomes a story of two lovers’ break-up.
One; Mother
A/N: I will most likely read this poem again in a couple of weeks and cringe. If you guys cringe as well, I suppose it’s as good as reaction as any 😉
And furthermore; Happy Birthday, Mom!
The world is still new and I stare with eyes from The Tinderbox.
Marvelling over snow crushing beneath me, sun warming above me.
And that little sound the microwave makes, when the minutes are out.
And over the dog; greeting me with a cold, wet snout and a wetter tongue.
Maria Sjöstrand 