It’s going by fast, it’s going by slow,
Racing on and on in a blurry glow,
Still dragging its feet, hovering over
its seat,
Refusing to stay, refusing to start away.
Life seems confused, disjointed scenes,
My last year in the happenin’ teens,
It may seem odd (you may secretly nod),
But sometimes I feel old, already draped
in mold.
Is that strange? I haven’t even begun,
I ain’t seen nothin’ solid yet, it’s all
just fun,
I have a careful tread, but this
unshakable dread,
That I’ll soon tire, lose all that fire.
A light that keeps me going, in the
nursery of life,
I’m terrified it’ll be but a wisp amidst
real strife,
All this waiting around, waiting for a
dream to be found,
Am I wasting away, wasting every single day?
Wasting every day I wait to grow up,
Waiting for experience, in a magic cup?
Or shall I shake it off, stop awaiting a
take-off,
Enjoy being naïvely gullible, before I
have to be responsible?
One way or other, happiness is what we
seek,
Worry and frowns won’t help the weak,
If I think I’m not smart enough, I’ll
try harder with stuff,
If you still think I’m a child, a mild
rethink wouldn't be wild!
