To Be Young, Poem by Spencer James Manchester

when my attention was stolen
by airplanes and
tornadoes of
Autumn,

dancing agracefully in sporadic
cycles-constant, but not so:
it ends quickly.

Afternoon's everlast seemed
just that, but is not so.
Evenings,

reluctance

to shut your eyes
for fear of day coming
before you had
the chance
to dream.

The carelessness, apathy,
ignorance but without
those ugly, adult
titles

Because it
really was only
what we should've done.

It is only resultant of necessity,
as we grow so does worry,
responsibility,

pounded always into our heads
and then immediately
disregarded,

as this very moment
then seemed so far away;
that I might indefinitely have

time to chase it and
try again when I
didn't catch it.

As if it was something that would miss you if you dodged it...
It falls into your lap, into your
Life, as it is
just that.