Be young, again

Just allow me, to be young again 
So that I shall sing twinkle little star thru the glass
as I’ll be waiting for a flashing star to wish upon, 
Which would be a peaceful sleep
filled with playful moments at Utopia,
And should no nightmares 
summoned spook in my sleep.

Just allow me, to be young again, 
For nothing shall be of priority 
as things attached to my soul,
Wild berry hunt, fishing, those 
Christmas clothes: you name it,
For those episodes were packed with pure 
giggles, joy and tears when my soul yearned for candy. 

Allow me please,  
To go back to Sunday school which it value doesn’t 
equate to currencies to have graced this world,
Take me back to the days where 
the mysteries of the Good Book weren’t anecdotes,
To days where my prayers were based on 
gratitude for e'ery biscuit and Regal candy I mouthed. 

Just one more time, allow me,
Just to appreciate and comprehend those
feelings one more time, ‘cause for they were priceless, 
Pure friendships that held no motives either 
than cheerful and playful moments, 
Allow me to be dirty and not mind the mud once again 
‘cause that was life, with no mouthing piles of bills.