Old Toys

All alone
I tangibly touch my childhood
I remember what I'd done with it
Who I had done it with
Memories you never could realize
Unless you touch them with your fingers
I smile
This toy, that block
All were the tools to imagination
But also to family
I haven't even seen them
In years
And now, I see the years I had with them
Where did it all go?
Are old times stretched like people?
Becoming taller, wider, more mature?
Is time like a body, moving upwards always?
Or, like old toys, they stay the same
Just fade a little
Interesting that childhood will never leave you
Only you
Can leave