Growing Up.

At the age of 10,

The earth for me, was all flat.

Disputes often put off/In exchange 

of a toffee or two.

Watching clouds move 

Hunting rainbow tails for gold 

And witty stories of the hare,

were daily doses of joy.

By the age of 15,

I knew it all, i thought.

Broken vases/forgotten friendships

Wishing over fallen eyelashes

and shooting stars.

Keeping diaries was an art.

Love was the boy,

With a cute smile and blushed cheeks.

I'll be 19 in a month.

Is the skin bruised or my heart

I'm perplexed.

I go on long walks, all alone.

One down the memory lane. I knew,

Growing up is all magical.

It's growing out of cradles

and uniforms,

Of fancy habits/foolish fantasies,

And growing out of toxic men.

It's much like 

the autumn that sees its leaves 

wither and die.

For the newborns to gleam all green

Under the radiant sky.

                                                                

                                                                          - J