As I lay here, alone in my bed,
I think back to when I was a child,
And everything was simple.
When a few backwood paths,
Were gateways to a world of adventure.
When thunderstorms were magical and frightening,
And friends were just around the corner.
When dragons lived among the trees,
And great battles fought in time for dinner.
But now I am a man, an adult,
I have no time for such childish thoughts.
Now those backwood paths lead to condos,
And friends are few and far between.
But every now and then I hear,
The echo of forgotten thunder.
And I can sometimes catch a glimpse,
Of an old friend among the trees.
