Posters of my heartthrobs hung on the wall,
Bookshelves filled with dystopian wars,
And nick-nacks like ceramic cats,
Wooden dolls and paper hats.
Fairy lights strewn across the room,
Tapestries woven with threads of forever,
Secret words scribbled on the wall under,
Felt like the world was ours to conquer.
Promises made or were they blunders?
Can you blame us?
We were starstruck by wonder,
Wonder of the never arriving future,
And truth we never held to be true,
Yet the uncertainty of the midnight sky,
Was turning blue.
For it was time for Act 2,
Draw the curtains and change the scene,
Or was the show was coming to an end?
We were trying so hard to live in inside our heads,
Grasping ghosts even though soon there would be nothing left,
Deny the rites and the passage of time,
But deep down we knew,
The sun doesn’t wait for anyone,
Not me nor you.
Isn’t naïveté the lover of youth?
Will I ever have another teenage room?
~Leia
