A Hopeful Innocence

“I wish the world was flat like the old days, then I could travel just by folding a map. No more airplanes, or speed trains, or freeways. There’d be no distance that could hold us back.”  ~Death Cab for Cutie

 

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When we were young a sunset would be all we needed to be amazed.
The simplicity of the events that unfolded in front of our eyes.
A book being read to us by a parental unit or guardian angel.
An innocence that slowly gets stripped away as we learn what is out there.

I want to keep my innocence,
My alibis that let me glimpse the other side.
I want my eyes to be wide eyed and innocent.
Seeing things as if I was a child, for the very first time.

When we were young everything wasn’t always fine,
But we knew someone would be there to make it better.
A kiss on the knee would make the pain go away.
A blind trust in our nurturer that slowly fades when we realize how this world actually works.

I don’t want to be naive, strung out, stupid, or dumb,
But I want to be innocent set apart, finding joy in the simple things.
Like a smile from a friend when I compliment their hair,
Or a joyful noise celebrating nothing at all but the fact we are in this together.

I want to slowly find my innocence again.
To drive out the cynic and embrace a more rounded view.
One that is not driven by my failures,
But one that revolves around finding the spark that everyone has, but many are hiding.

Laying on my back alone doesn’t have to be sad.
I could look up at the stars and know I am being shined upon.
Even in the loneliness, companionship can be found.
As the stars fall around me and I make a thousand and one wishes for you and for me.

When we were young our motivations were so small.
When we were young our motivations might have actually been bigger than the ones we have today.
When we were young the world seemed so big.
And now as I sit here alone it just feels small.

I want, I want, I want innocence at least one more time.
I wish, I wish, I wish for chances to show that I am not always a cynic.
Hope is the through-line of the stories I tell you.
To have and to hold it can change the world around you.

Grasp onto hope, and let it shine as a beacon into the night.
A lighthouse for my harbor to help you find your way home.
One of these days it will bring somebody in.
For now I have the spark that I have been uncovering slowly, in preparation for the day that it is you and me.

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