When I was 13 I constantly thought,
three additional years and I'll be sixteen,
the ideal age when you can go out with boys.
The ideal age when you can wear make-up,
the ideal age when you can hangout 'til about nine or ten.
The perfect age when you have loads of books to carry home from school,
the perfect age when you can kiss,
it all seems like a dream or an adventure.
Now that I'm sixteen,
I wish that I was thirteen for a second time,
The blameless age when you are not heart broken.
And perplexed over boys,
the innocent age when you don't get acne,
the innocent age when you aren't teased
about the way you look or kiss.
I just wonder how it will be when I turn 21.
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