Imagination

Intro to the story...

The innocence of childhood is a beautiful thing. It’s the harmful nature of growing up that destroys that innocence, and shatters that beauty. It’s something I’d give anything to get back. A child can dwell and believe in their imagination, when the reality they live in fails them. We were all once children, therefore we were all once innocent. Born with the ability to close our eyes and dream. But at one point of walking through life, we forgot how to enter our worlds of imagination. It’s almost like we lost the key, and didn’t bother to find it. It’s evident that the poison of growing up, steals that gift we were given. Not only is that door now locked, but it doesn’t exist. Have you ever tried to go back to the days of fantasy and dreaming? I guarantee you can’t see it the same way. It’s because your mind has been filled with what the world has placed in it over time. Your imagination is a dusty book on the shelf of your conscience. And even if you opened it, it’s just a story now. None of it feels the same. It’s a shame that our worlds had to disappear with age.