To the land of almosts and maybes,
to the not-right-nows
and disingenuous maybe laters,
we, the children of false promises,
We come from humble beginnings
of adventure and curiosity.
“Why” was once our staple.
We had “no” with our peas and carrots,
“careful” in every forkful.
Now we feast on those scrappy side dishes.
We used to paint with our fingers
and stare up above.
Whether sky or ceiling or human,
everything was an oddity in need of
The answers were simpler then.
You screamed and food appeared.
You got hurt
and it was the slide’s fault.
We are a compilation of every
dinosaur chicken nugget
and heartbroken lullaby.
We are first steps and first
We are smudged eyeliner
and once-cherished teddy bears.
And when we welcome our new selves,
we do it
to keep the old ones company.