Stages

Flashback to our younger days: All that mattered was hopscotch Under the sun's gleeful rays And its welcoming touch We left innocence behind, then grew; Well, some of us did, Lusting for narcotics and tattoos To prove that we're not kids Fast forward to us on pavements: The sun hovers with punishing rays, Games become work for payments, Bosses are parents (we must obey!) Today's rescue is paper and nostalgia; Maybe some hope for serendipity Beyond the internal seas of a writer That drowns the average with intensity