When I was five, I ate rice with raw egg.
Sit on the rusty, yellow and blue swing.
Play lego and compete for the king,
Ride and reach home before lunch's eaten.

Seven to twelve were kinda tough,
Series of confusions, choices, and circles.
But you managed to pull through,
Since you're sure what's ahead of you.

Thirteen to sixteen you'll meet her,
And the world becomes really colorful.
But blends aren't always that beautiful,
Might end up red or worse some blue.

Seventeen to twenty you shape up,
Let it all in for the last hurrah.
You'll go out to be different,
From now, things will be uncertain.

Twenty-one and I'm still figuring it out,
But that's okay what I hear people shout,
I am desperate as hell,
I need some new normal.