TheSilent Loudness


Growing Older


Let us run away and act as if we are still children
With not a care in the world and not a mouth to feed but our own
Let's hold hands and play tag until the light goes down
And the streetlights go on, when we return to our homes
To watch cartoons and fall asleep before nine
So we can dream of space until our parents call us to rise and shine
Let us be kids, let us be young, let us not care
When we were young we wanted to drive but now a license is not to live
When we could drive we wanted to smoke and drink, to die, that and this
And now all we want is to revoke all those things
And be but an infant in a stroller
To rest for a while before it is over
Oh how I hate, no, dislike growing older

Submitted: Saturday, October 12, 2013
Edited: Friday, October 25, 2013
Listen to this poem:

Do you like this poem?
0 person liked.
0 person did not like.

Read this poem in other languages

This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.

I would like to translate this poem »

word flags

What do you think this poem is about?

Comments about this poem (Growing Older by TheSilent Loudness )

Enter the verification code :

There is no comment submitted by members..

Top Poems

  1. Phenomenal Woman
    Maya Angelou
  2. The Road Not Taken
    Robert Frost
  3. If You Forget Me
    Pablo Neruda
  4. Still I Rise
    Maya Angelou
  5. Dreams
    Langston Hughes
  6. Annabel Lee
    Edgar Allan Poe
  7. If
    Rudyard Kipling
  8. I Know Why The Caged Bird Sings
    Maya Angelou
  9. Stopping by Woods on a Snowy Evening
    Robert Frost
  10. Invictus
    William Ernest Henley

PoemHunter.com Updates

New Poems

  1. The One, Spiritwind Wood
  2. THAT HUGE BLACKOUT, MOHAMMAD SKATI
  3. What The World Told, Adeosun Olamide
  4. Pebble, The Astronomer
  5. This World, Spiritwind Wood
  6. With Pride We Remain, Spiritwind Wood
  7. The Perversion of Christian Ideals, Brian Johnston
  8. Giver Of Light, Spiritwind Wood
  9. spinach makes me teeth feel chalky, Mandolyn ...
  10. Ode to knickers, Ruth Walters

Poem of the Day

poet Wilfred Owen

All sounds have been as music to my listening:
Pacific lamentations of slow bells,
The crunch of boots on blue snow rosy-glistening,
Shuffle of autumn leaves; and all farewells:

...... Read complete »

   
[Hata Bildir]