It often slips away with age,
Sometimes in an attempt to belong.
Others who know us notice,
Though we ourselves may not.
Don't let me lose my innocence,
I cling tightly to a little thread
On the end of which this trait remains tied,
Blowing in the wind.
The older we get,
The wiser we grow,
The less naive we are,
And we become mature.
But even though we may change,
And we grow up, it doesn't mean
That we must change our values
Or try so hard to act our age.
So a question still remains,
And it is answered in many ways.
Should our innocence be compromised?
Or simply forgotten? Or do we still hold on tight?
Do we have to let it go?
Sometimes in an attempt to belong.
Others who know us notice,
Though we ourselves may not.
Don't let me lose my innocence,
I cling tightly to a little thread
On the end of which this trait remains tied,
Blowing in the wind.
The older we get,
The wiser we grow,
The less naive we are,
And we become mature.
But even though we may change,
And we grow up, it doesn't mean
That we must change our values
Or try so hard to act our age.
So a question still remains,
And it is answered in many ways.
Should our innocence be compromised?
Or simply forgotten? Or do we still hold on tight?
Do we have to let it go?
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