Highs and Lows

Fingers grip bark as I scale the old trunk,

a reckless escape from the world's heavy funk.

Once, I climbed higher, each branch a new dream,

a kid unafraid, alive in the gleam.

Now photographs linger, memories frayed,

youth found in shadows, but innocence swayed.

Those branches have changed, now thick with the past,

I ache for that freedom, a time that won’t last.