A baby’s smile
Is, the purest of its kind
A child’s laughter
Is, the sweetest of all
Everything is simple
When innocence still lingers

I can still remember
When a minimal cut
Can be eased by a simple touch
When a mother’s kiss
Can soothe even the most,
Painful gash

Back then
Tears were not always bitter
Tomorrow isn’t always considered as dread
Life and strife are simply phonetics
And doesn’t act as complements
To each other

Does it come with age?
Does it come with maturity?
That one’s life must change
Quite extremely
From simplicity to extreme intricacy
Maybe… maybe not… I don’t know