Holding onto my youth,
I don't want to grow up, though I want to figure this out
I don't want to settle, though I want a place to call mine
I'm wandering, falling, tumbling, wishing, wanting to go somewhere else
Be so free, loud, untamed
I live in the walls of my body
Walls that lost their innocence too soon
I was a crocus that bloomed at the first frost
I closed up
I'm trying to hold onto the moments, the memories, the times
But things drift away
I'll grow old
Every one does eventually
I just wish I was ready
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem