a silly poem... in progress
Is it such a crime, to not know, at the age of 17, what you want to do with the rest of your life? To be a little scared at times, that things are moving a little bit to fast? To let the uncertainty take over, and not do anything for a while? Just to slide through the days, let them pass into nights, and do it all over again, with no recollection? To stare into nothing, and not have a thought within? To become obsorbed by the past, just to forget about tomorrow... The point between being a child and an adult, with no middle ground and no where to stand. Have to fight to stay afloat, at times it seems painful, too much to take. But in the end, it's wondered, is it all worth it? Will I ever know?