When children, we wish to stay young.
To run and forever play.
A million little Peter Pans
Forever young to stay.
When we hit thirteen, we want to go.
To be as old as we can look.
We dropp our toys for keys
Electronics in place of picture book.
We run as fast as our legs can go.
To be eighteen! To be cool!
We want to be away from Mom,
We want be free of school.
And then, when we get to the “perfect age”
We stay a little while in bliss.
But soon as we see that age go slipping by
We cry and scream and hiss.
And then we spend the rest of life
On food and makeup and toys
That make us feel as though we were
Still little girls and boys.
Why is it that when we seem to mature
Our common sense washes away
Why do we all strive to be one age
When we know we won’t be it, one day?
We run ahead to be twenty and waste
The years we spend only running.
Then spend the rest of our live
Wishing we had stayed where we were.
Are the children the only ones with sense?
Let us be as they are.
Let us live who we are.
Not what we wish that we were.
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