Summer.

It's summer, and as I walked around outside, I reflected on the year and then dreamt of past summers.
Last summer was full of drama, the ones before that were boring, yet the ones that stick out the most in my mind were when I was about 7.
I can remember spending most of my time down at my grandma's fishing with my dad, picking flowers, and laying in the grass looking at the fireflies. I also remember a little friend I was always with. He never let me out of his site, constantly had a hold of my hand, and drug me around everywhere. All I remember is those being the funnest summers. I got dirty, It was hot, but I didn't care. My friend and I jumped in the pond and didn't even think about changing when we got out. We made jewlelry out of a clover flowers and caught fireflys.
I just find it funny to think back to then. I liked it how we thought we knew it all. How we felt like we'd never grow up. Now I'd give anything to feel bliss and see life from a child’s eyes again and anything to feel love from a child's heart again.
Yet, back then, I wanted to grow up. I was never old enough. Now I think it's coming fast.
Yet, I can't say I am not enjoying my life. I'm having fun.
The sunshine is warm, the flowers are bright, and I don't have to go to school tommorow.
I can sleep under the stars, and stay up late by a bon-fire.
Hell, i can still catch fireflies.
I'll put one in a mason jar and wish that I can recapture some childhood bliss.