Anew
by: trista groulx

The time has come, so they say
To put away these childish things
The time has come, so the story goes
But still we want to hang on to our pasts
Still we want to play with old toys
While letting the new go to waste
To just stay, static, in this place
Where life is good maybe perfect
Where everything seems right
The time has come, so they say
To strike out on your own
To sink or to swim
The time has come, the story goes
While we just want to retreat
The time has come to strike off alone
While our fear keeps in this place