A Question with No Reply

At gloomy nights as I lay on my back,
I ponder over the years gone by,
Should I feel sorrow or should I feel joy,
That’s a question with no reply.

Should I feel sad of having lost?
Or be excited for what I can win.
Shun the wonder years of my life
Or knit the life of pretentious grin.

I want the innocence of the eager child,
The truthfulness of a teenage heart,
Why is a part of growing up to let go
When living is to feel and not throw

Why do we age?
To be smarter or to be sly,
Why cant we still live
the child inside?

Will I ever relive that excitement
Or find a heart as childlike as mine?
It is hope as infinite as the sky
And a question with no reply