Growing up is not for me

My first ever attempt at poetry.

 

 

 Does growing up really mean

I have to change everything about me?

Does it mean I can't be

Who I want me to be?

Do I have to stop loving the things I love

just because it's time to grow up?

Why can't I laugh at stupid things anymore?

Roll around dramatically on the floor?

Make a fool of myself, and do it some more?

Why can't I make mistakes,

or complain

when it gets to be too much to take?

Or when it starts being too hard

to pretend to be an adult

when I'm still afraid of the dark.

When will I just get to be myself and stop faking it?

Stop taking it?

Stop being who everyone wants me to be?

When will it be okay to be silly

and still have my share of the responsibility?

Why does growing up mean everything has to change

and never be the same?

Can I not enjoy things anymore,

without being called immature?

If part of being an adult means I have to stop being who I am,

stop saying what I believe

then maybe growing up

 isn't for me.

Author's Note

I decided to try my hand at poetry, and this is the outcome. Please be kind :)