There’s always someone older,
in some twisted threatening way,
saying "when you're old like me,
you'll see - just wait"

But I’ve seen enough
and now I’d like to go home -
back to the drawing board
where I was better off
shooting for my stars alone -
to write new storylines
that aren’t too hard to be told,
and to one day reap the bountiful harvests
of the seeds I'll care to sow

And so, I find my life
up in my head -
the sparkling visions
I dare to dream beyond
the comfort of my bed,
and catch that bus each day,
and cast far my lines,
and to slowly, deftly, carve to shape
this little life of mine.