The same way a child looks at a popsicle,

wide eyed,

full of excitement,

anything that ever upset them in life,

faded.

there is a focus only placed on the beauty,

A popsicle.

I sometimes still wish I was a child.

Sometimes I can be,

I look up to you,

like you’ve never done wrong before.

I see you for who you can be,

not for who you are.

I see that sometimes you’re weak,

but choose to focus on the times

you’ll overcome everything and everyone.

Seeing the world as if it’s new,

Being blind to the evil,

not entirely

-of course

I notice the popsicle melting on my hand,

I wipe it off on my jeans

and continue–

the popsicle still tastes like cherries.

The same way the sunrises,

Marking a new day,

continuing regardless of the events of yesterday,

I reach for another popsicle,

and turn towards you,

“smile–

you are given another opportunity to do better than your yesterday”

This time I chose grape.

I never liked cherry.