I remember racing the other kids
on a bicycle down that street (I won!).
I remember scraping my knees
one time when I fell down.
I remember so many things
about my childhood innocence.
I wish I could forget
a lot of what’s happened since.
I remember hide-and-seek
in the garden around the house.
I remember the giggles and laughs
that, at night, would knock me out.
I remember some bad things
about my childhood as it were.
But, oh dear, how I wish
I could somehow still be there!
I remember my grandmother’s arms
and the cuddles that she gave.
I remember my grandfather’s smell
and how he made me safe.
I remember the house and the street
and all the kids I would meet.
But that wasn’t my real home
and I rue that those days are gone.
We moved from place to place,
with no real stability.
They always worked a lot
and I had to take care of me.
Any friends that I would make
would soon be taken away.
And the child that I was then
could never make us stay.
There were so many streets I grew up on,
how can I pick just one?
Some were good and some were bad,
and some, from my memory, just gone!
But I’ll always have those summers
at my grandparents and their house.
All those happy days of childhood
and that fun that knocked me out.