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I am not

I am not

I am not

I am not

I am not

I am not ready for the next phase of life

In which my resentments will need to be justified

And yes, sometimes I put in all the effort I can going in

the wrong direction.

I am not quite ready to accept that there will always be

Someone better because by jove, if my storybooks and

TV shows have taught me anything, it is that everyone

Is different (and with a limited number of capable people

in the world in any given age, one of them HAS to be

better than everyone).

I don’t know if I can handle maturity and responsibility

And yes, not all adults do, but those are the least desirable kind.

I don’t think I will ever be able to comprehend or

accept the fact that from here on out, everything

Every single thing will be different than what it has been before.

I can’t go back to being a child playing, blissfully unawares, on a playground

I will only continue to grow, and never

Be the me that I used to be.

 

Everything that you dream about in those playground days

Becomes less tantalizing the closer it comes to reality.

I will never live in my parent’s house (in this way) again

I will never feel the way I do when I roam Rockville again

I will never walk through the halls of my high school the way I do now

Never have the same schedule, the same comfort

Again. My worry I suppose is not with the void itself—

More of a concern that it will not be

filled with anything as pure or delightful or

Lovely as youth.

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a
Written by
ado-a
American
Published
Feb 6, 2010
Lines·Words
32·287
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