Sometimes the events of living take over
And we forget what we were at first
Cast back, mind
What did I love when I was two
Or five
Or ten?

Words

They must still be there
Language hasn’t dried up
Despite text speak
Gen Z
Or Gen Alpha brain rot -
Whatever that is 

A word is still a word
I mean, bruh
They still teach Shakespeare in school
Don’t they?

So I am digging down to find the roots
Before the dramatic recitations of
The Billy Goats Gruff
Or knowledge of each and every nursery rhyme

When trolls only lived beneath bridges
And songs were sung at my mother’s knee
And anything was possible