Growing up.
Something not easy,
that makes us uneasy.
We carry all these memories,
so many filled with anxieties.
We worry far to much,
and maybe we should get in touch,
with our childhood feelings more,
because we cannot all live hardcore.
Yet we cannot afford to regress,
to busy with life as a game of chess.
To many choices for us to make,
hopefully we will not make a mistake.
To grow old with the wisdom,
yet that is not a form of freedom.
From baby to teen to wizened crone,
it does not matter for when we enter the unknown.
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