Postcards from Teenage Years

For so many years, we drifted on a sea,
a sea of innocence.
Blind eyes shone brightly.
A world so distant was not missed.
We were happy.

A funny time this age, this age of awareness.
Adolescent frenzy, they say, I think.
Walking down blind alleys, drugged to death,
wrists slashed, stomachs pumped.
We were sad.

Then the revelation, we believed.
Responsibilities, no longer a pressure,
coping with problems a pleasure.
A lover so true, a friend so new.
We were happy.

But thought returned,
as a postcard from teenage years.
Question all your days it said.
So a reclined mind thought again,
‘Am I happy, am I sad?’
We were confused.

I thought about the soft skin that lay next to my cheek,
and the shining eyes that held so many loving tears,
and I wondered why this sweet child felt for me so strongly.

I discovered, we were real.
Life was a day with no yesterday and no tomorrow.
So I went to bed and slept soundly.
I was happy.