It was the age of pink tutus and tiaras,

the air is warm,

dragonflies fly alongside the grass.

He calls my name and

I run into his arms,

I am safe.

I am home.

The leaves begin to fall from there trees,

As wind bites my fingers and toes.

I walk through the door but

He isn't there

I see an old man, hair is long gone

Sitting in his rocking chair

I want to run into his arms

but I fear he'll break.

The trees are now bare

and the ground was white.

The grass is no longer accompanied

by the dragonflies.

There is no man in the rocking chair,

I want desperately to feel your embrace

instead, I find a box with your picture on it

You were my home, my safe place

It was the age of innocence

And great big dreams.

Only now I can't even remember your voice.