It now feels like ages
I've been running aimlessly
In the holy name of living,
I've been barely surviving.
I can't be sure
If that's how new adults feel
I hope I'm just as
Normal as any now young.
School bags full
Of non life-teaching books
Note copies filled
With non future-promising knowledge
And minds occupied
By the wish of growing an adult
I now as a new adult think,
How stupid was I as a child
Adulting up is an unpleasant trap
Growing up isn't fun.
The never ending bluffs
The unrealistic, twisted day dreams all day long
The fantasy of having a boyfriend
The carefree fantastic dance moves
The ecstatic wish of becoming a dancer
They don't live anymore
And someone or something's guilty.
They are now,
The unspoken truths
The awareness of loneliness
The falling future fruits
Either every Friday night's graceless dances
Or the will yo be able to dance
Like I did when I wasn't adult yet
That guilty someone is known
Yet unblameable
That something guilty is my fear
But I can't help.
Adulting isn't worthless atleast
Knowing that arts help
Coming across the beautiful minds from the past
The hard kicking poetry
To heart flooding melody
The eye catching colourful colours
Spread on canvases
Forming breath taking beautiful paintings
Portraying a thousand subliminal beauty of life.
Adulting is deep
And I hope
I'm enough sensitive, sarcastic and humours
To be able to handle
The young depths.
