I miss being a kid
When things were pure and simple
I miss not being stressed
And laughing hard after every cry
I miss those sunday mornings,
Where waking up to cartoons was termed fulfilling
I miss those innocent days
Where complications had no place
I miss eating however much I wanted
Without a second thought
I miss being careless about attire or hair
And play in the mud to my heart's content.
I miss those winds in my hair
Which were felt with the excitment while swinging on the swing
I miss being just me
Where what others say was never a serious issue.
But what I miss most of all
Is the time that seemed to never run out.