18
What a strange age

Expected to grow up
Expected to change

But there is a problem
With what they request,
I’m not quite done growing
And I’m still quite a mess

They tell me I’m ready
That I have to move on

Won’t somebody tell me
Where my childhood’s gone?

What are these taxes?
Why must I move out?
If I haven’t the money,
Shall I sleep on the ground?

Nobody told me
How to accept
The loss of my childhood
As a normal event

It may not have been nice
And it may not have been good
And I might have been through stuff
That no child should

But I am not ready
To give it all up
To trade for my hours,
Everyday at a job

I don’t know how to fight it
I’m not sure I can

But at least I am finding
The person I am

At 18 I’m growing
And I’ll keep in my hand
That of another me,
The one of my Past