the day is nearing close and closer
the day I wear my cap and gown
and walk down the stage
and get handed my diploma
the day I no longer attend high school
the day I leave this town behind
to start my new life
and new beginnings

I remember when the world was a honey *** —
sweet and endless,
when the biggest worry was a blustery day
and whether Piglet would blow away.
The sky was wide, and the ground was soft,
and the trees whispered secrets if you listened long enough.

Back then, I knew the Bare Necessities by heart:
A river’s hum, the sun’s warm kiss,
feet splashing through a world that never asked for more
than laughter and a little bit of wonder.
Baloo taught me how to sway with the breeze,
to let life be easy —
but no one told me the breeze could turn cold.

They don’t warn you when the Hundred Acre Wood starts to shrink,
when the trees lose their magic
and just become trees.
One day, you wake up and Christopher Robin isn’t coming back —
and you realize you have to be him now.
You have to pack up the toys
and leave the forest behind.

But I miss the forest.
I miss the rustle of leaves that sounded like adventure,
the way a cardboard box was a pirate ship,
or a rocket,
or a house where everything made sense.
Now my ships sink in student loans,
and my rockets crash into expectations.

They said growing up was an adventure —
but no one said it was like Shere Khan waiting in the dark,
all teeth and waiting for you to fail.
No one told me the man-village had rules:
Wear this. Be that. Don’t dream too loud.

But sometimes, when the night is quiet,
I hear Baloo singing in the back of my head.
Sometimes, when the wind shakes the trees,
I swear I see Tigger bouncing through the branches.
And I hold on to those echoes,
those soft, honeyed memories,
because the world gets heavy,
but childhood taught me how to fly.

So maybe I’ll keep a little bit of the forest with me.
Maybe I’ll hum the Bare Necessities when the bills pile up.
Maybe I’ll remember that a blustery day
is just an excuse to hold on tighter to the ones you love.

And maybe, when the world says grow up,
I’ll whisper back —
“Oh, bother.”

how do I say goodbye
to my childhood
to a free roof over my head
to free food
to free everything
how do I say hello
to my new life
to adulthood
to paying for everything
to being even more independent
how do I transition from childhood
to adulthood
it seems terrifying
and exhilarating

Life is short, with a

lot of evils. I keep that --


back from my children.

the day is approaching
faster and faster
the day I pack up all my stuff
put it into boxes
load it into the car
empty out my room
and drive for a couple of hours
I will unpack my life
into a tiny new room
that will be my home for a year
I'll look at my barren room
waiting to be decorated
and filled
I'll make it my own
no matter how I miss my home hours away

Soft hands once held tight,
small fingers grasping
strings of laughter—
bubbles of wonder.

Now, steady hands weave
threads of her own,
spinning life’s fabric
with quiet resolve.

Footsteps that still dance
through sunlit sand
also press firm paths
of wisdom and grace.

Her voice, still a song
belting with fervor,
speaks with echoes
of strength and love.

Mischievous smiles remain,
tempered by time,
yet still lighting the room
with their knowing glow.

Bright eyes, still seeking,
but also seeing—
a future shaped
by hands once guided.

Trusting, complete love—
a father watches,
holding tight to pride,
as she floats beyond—
on threads of time.

There was a little girl
Thinking about being
old enough to smoke
There was a little girl
Wanting to work
Rather to sit in classroom
All alone

She thought that life is hard
Being so stressed out
Just because of little exam

Children being as tormenting
As they can be
She dropped her innocent heart
Deeper into the sea

As she grew up
New story came
Thinking there will be
Better Days

Having no idea…
Jerks broke her heart
And she fell deeper
As she ever was
Hating life because of a boy
Feeling that end would bring
Her a joy

As an adult
Smoking relieved her pain
Telling herself
,, that is not what I wanted,,

But not giving up
She held hope in her
Hands
Suggesting she might see
Face of the day

But time passed
And She graduated
And moved out
Thinking again
That life will be easier that way
But financial crisis
Kicked in

And now she dreams
Of Being that little child
she used to be again

Now that Mum and Dad

are so quiet, I observe --


them extra closely.