What is Childhood? (An Original Poem)

I wrote this poem not too long ago on a sudden inspiration to write a poem about my childhood. As I detailed events, I began to realize I wasn't just writing about childhood but was trying to define it. I found myself asking questions such as what is childhood?

And when did it end?

Childhood is hard to call a time, and more easily called events.

Childhood is not two to twelve, but long hikes and huge, open tents.

Childhood is an old gray truck whose air doesn’t work, and doors won’t lock.

Childhood is a summer day and the pool and a new box of chalk.

Childhood is the magical places we went, and hope to again:

Mountain rivers, grueling hikes, Carolina beaches and vacations. 

Childhood is sleeping in bunk beds in cabins, and bunks in RVs.

Or playing in forts made of cushions, then climbing to forts in the trees.

Childhood consists of leaving for trips, about an hour too late,

Always stopping for breaks and driving all night and still getting there late.

Childhood is stopping for donuts before a big, road trip begins,

And often being told to wear socks on the floors of motels and inns.

Childhood is learning how to lie and wishing you hadn’t, after.

Childhood is doing math while fighting the urge to be a cheater.

Childhood is spankings and time-outs and freezing at a full name call.

Childhood is trying new things, like climbing trees, then taking a fall.

To wrap it up, childhood isn’t an age or a height or a grade.

It is the time before a carefree and innocent world begins to fade.

And when that time has passed, and the flag of childhood has been furled,

We remind ourselves what it was, and why we need children in the world.

I'd love to hear your thoughts!

Did you like it?

Thanks for reading. :)