In the room of toys and purity, we resided.
\nPlaying, dreaming of the great possibilities of the sunlit unknown
\nSoaking in the freedom of caring so little about what we now cannot rid our minds of
\nThe high pitches of laughter providing the warmth between the walls
\nImaginings of impossible beings
\nLiving dolls
\nMirrors of anything but the overwhelming insecurities that taunt us now
\nYet eventually.
\nOne by one.
\nThe children must wave goodbye
\nUntil the last born is left
\nBehind closed shutters
\nTo baste in the lonely world of imaginings
\nUntil at last she will give in
\nAnd wave goodbye to the empty room
\nHer name in chalk still written upon the coloured walls
\nScratching in the name of her old peers beside her own
\nClaiming her home as only so with them in it
\nMissing them earnestly, perpetually
\nHer favorite doll holding her hand as she dismisses,
\nHesitantly
\ntearfully
\nA bowed head
\nA grieving glance
\nI wasn\u2019t ready.
\nI wasn\u2019t ready.<\/p>\n
I wasn\u2019t ready to grow up.<\/strong><\/p>\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":" Ryley Clarke In the room of toys and purity, we resided. Playing, dreaming of the great possibilities of the sunlit unknown Soaking in the freedom of caring so little about what we now cannot rid our minds of The high pitches of laughter providing the warmth between the walls Imaginings of impossible beings Living dolls… <\/p>\n