“When you grow up, you will understand.”
“When you have your own kids, it will make sense, and you will understand.”
“Just wait till you’re older and more mature.”
“You’re still a kid.”
“When you’re older.”
“When you’re older.”
“When you’re older.”
That’s what they say.
But I learned at a young age.
The colors aren’t fading as some say they do.
I still find laughter in dumb things,
and I don’t want to grow up
and lose me.
Because I hear so many people tell me so many things,
but I doubt some of the words that they speak.
Because being mature didn’t mean not laughing,
and growing up didn’t mean not living.
And my inner child didn’t lose its spark
over a simple sentence.
I doubted myself,
and I questioned things,
but never the child in me.
Because they made it seem like there was no stopping it.
That it would happen no matter what,
and you couldn’t do a thing about it.
But that’s what I doubted.
Because I’m going on in life,
but I still see shooting stars,
and I still hear birds sing.
I still find joy in little things.
I don’t think money is something to chase,
but something that lets you
go out, travel, and be free.
I don’t find sorrow in the night.
I’m not out chasing parties,
but hosting my own
with a bar of chocolate and a book.
I’m not starving for the attention
that everyone wants.
And I’m mature enough
to know how to have fun.
They tell me,
“When you’re older, you’ll learn to understand.”
But I’m older now,
and they’re just repeating their sentence.
Maybe they’re trying to tell it
to themselves instead.