I faintly remember a time,

When I was very young,

When I didn't have to worry,

That something would go wrong.

When Santa existed,

And witches were bad,

When trees could cry leaves,

When I could never be sad.

This was when fairies were summoned by rings,

And there was no such thing as being biased,

When recess meant swinging and reading and laughing,

When kites and pixies flew the highest.

This time occurred a while back.

When I dreamt of being older,

But now that my final wish has come true,

I know that "older" is much colder.