The dust and detritus of daily life,
Burrows deep into the crevices and cracks of pavements,
We once walked as children,
Dragged at the hand by exhausted mothers,
Smiling at strangers with childish curiosity,
Pointing at random objects of interest asking, “what’s that Mommy, and why?”
Daydreaming about everything but the harsh reality,
Of our future adult lives,
That we could barely grasp the concept of by observation,
From the comfort zone of parental love,
The safety of not having an inkling about it,
With a vulnerability enough to crave it, pretend,
We dressed up in mother’s high heels,
Put on her makeup,
Played dress up like we were already there.
Whilst here, now,
I wish it was still a game to us now.
These streets are now walked with eyes cast down,
Into mobile screens,
We block out city noise,
Wearing headphones leaving a tinny hiss behind us,
We collide, and brush shoulders,
We rarely meet eye to eye,
Rarely meet at all.
Till we’re home and dry,
Behind the walls, we build around us,
That seem higher and higher,
Watching the door to the outside world,
Slip further and further away,
From our grasp.
Like the childhood innocence,
We barely recall,
Though it seems it slipped from us,
When we slipped off our heels,
Washed off our makeup,
Staring into the distant silence of our mirror world,
Wishing for dreams to come true.
We never had a clue what the game was,
We were playing.