One year older grows to two,
Then three, four, and some more.
Till one day the laughter fades,
Giving way for “better” days.
Desire for touch, where once it was not,
Wanting the fire, nice and hot.
Toys, once held as precious treasure,
Soon surrender to greater pleasure.
A kiss on the cheek that wasn't from dad,
Trying new things because it's a fad.
Wearing less but wanting more,
The heart grows thin and much more sore.
Till one day the child is lost,
To a world that does not care for cost.