A Child's eyes.

To see through child's eyes again
Oh lord now such a dream,
Of scented air with not a care
And tales of all we've seen.

The warmth of days in summers haze
The softest breezes blew
A reverence of innocence
Those days were all too few.

When day was ending we grew tired
Then tucked into our beds
Spawned dreams of scenes, a field of fire
Inside our youthful heads.

But why these thoughts as I now age?
Should haunt me thus with pain?
As life and strife is my next page
I wish for youth again.