Tia Lea


Young writer, gardener and professional loner

Message from Writer

Critism is welcomed. I strive to improve my writing skills in any way possible so reviews are defiantly appreciated!


June 12, 2015



Childhood was obsessions with dinosaurs, collecting stuffed toys, imagining hidden cities under the trampoline in your yard. Childhood was building leaf houses in the garden at school so the fairies have somewhere to sleep at night. Childhood was drawing the sun in the corner of the page, climbing into your parent’s bed after a bad dream, and going to parties and playing ‘pin the tail on the donkey!’ Childhood was a world full of wonder and excitement, where the only limit to your imagination was the crystal blue skies. But eventually, everybody grows up. Grown-ups never tell you what it’s going to be like though. You never know exactly when, but overtime you realise that the only thing under your trampoline is scattered rocks, and the stuffed toys are nothing more than that. The leaf houses get blown away every night, and you have to just go back to sleep after a nightmare. Parties are just talking to people and eating. The skies turn grey and the trees of what once was a magical forest fade into concrete skyscrapers. Suddenly you’re forced into this ‘real world’ as if everything before this moment wasn’t ‘real.’ As you grow up everything changes, and the sun in the corner of the page is blocked out by clouds.


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