The Toy

Once I had a little toy,

Painted blue — my heart, my joy.

It smiled at me when days were long,

And hummed along to every song.

I carried it through dust and rain,

Through childish dreams and gentle pain.

Its wooden arms, though chipped and torn,

Still felt like home — still felt reborn.

At night, beneath the moon’s soft gleam,

It listened while I dared to dream.

I told it secrets, hopes, and fears,

It never spoke — but wiped my tears.

Then years went by, as years will do,

The skies grew wide, my spirit too.

The toy grew small in grown-up eyes,

A whisper lost in city cries.

I packed it in a box one day,

And let the wind take youth away.

A college room, a job, a plan —

And I became another man.

Yet sometimes when the silence calls,

I feel that toy inside my walls.

I see its smile in morning light,

A faded blue, but still so bright.

For every man — no matter when,

Was once a boy who dreamed again.

We trade our toys for weight and will,

But part of us is playing still.

So if you find your heart grown cold,

And wonder where your laughter’s sold —

Go find your toy, your song, your start,

It’s waiting still — inside your heart.

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✨ *“We never truly lose our childhood.

It just waits quietly — to be remembered.”*