Poem -

growing old

Oh, my dear friend
These summer nights are getting cold.
This chapter is coming to an end,
My dear friend, I think we’re getting old.

I can’t remember the moment
when adults stopped caring if I heard them curse.
I can’t remember the last time,
that my innocence was put first.

Oh, my dear friend.
this world is moving fast.
We’d best get going,
Before we’re left in the past.

I don’t want to grow up,
I don’t want to be all alone.
I’m surrounded by all these happy faces,
But all I  hear are their silent groans.

Of ambitions they left in the past.
They’ve forgotten their hopes and dreams.
For they grew up too fast,
And it’s tearing them apart at the seams.

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