The boy felt fear, the man felt anxious.
The boy felt sad, the man felt depressed.
The boy felt angry, the man felt irritable.
The boy had forgotten, the man had repressed.
The man wears a suit, the boy walks undressed.
The boy is a slave only to his senses,
But as thoughts start to play
On the radio of the mind,
Those thoughts that play only
In fast-forward or rewind,
The man becomes a slave to his thoughts,
His innocence forgot,
His eyes become dark and he feels nothing,
Except for maybe one thing:
Spinning in his head,
But at least he knows his ABCs,
And can count back from 100 by threes.
If he truly wants to be like the boy instead,
He just has to ignore the radio in his head.
Which may not be easy, because, after all,
There's no volume knob that's attached to skull.