It's too early to leave
But it's too late to stay
And I'm too naive to be afraid
I don't listen to you
Not for a while now
I guess I'll go and figure it out
I've got a feeling
This could be a last
Something to be forgotten as past
I don't know anything
I'd never admit that though
I think I might die in the autumn snow
YOU ARE READING
Growing Pains
PoetryA retelling of growing up with all of the highs and lows. Condensed into few words are my experiences with people, self-discovery, and the small parts of life and the world I've gotten to see through the windows of my childhood home.
