PostPoems Be Artistic. Be Creative. Be Inspired!

I miss my adolescence

where, with wide-eyed optimism,

we questioned life

and looked for meaning

in every crevice and open space,



when we weren’t afraid

to inquire those above us

in stature (if in no other manner)

so we could obtain understanding,



even if white lies were told

to keep adult secrets

from being exposed too early.



At least then, futures are painted

in spectrums of grayscale

and we sat in the middle of a see-saw:

everything was open

for us to interpret and decide

which direction we would take them.



Now, with gray hair falling,

we walk with downcast eyes

unable to ask any questions

because we’re afraid of the answer



or we already know the truth

that would be spoken

if we waited for it

since our worlds have

turned to black and white



and decisions have been revealed

as not ours to make

because destiny has fooled us

into believing life

was ours for the taking

all this time.  

Rewrite 2012

I miss my adolescence
where, with wide-eyed optimism,
we questioned life
and looked for meaning
in every crevice and open space,

when we weren’t afraid
to inquire of those above us
in stature (if in no other manner)
so we could obtain understanding,

even if white lies were told
to keep adult secrets
from being exposed too early.

At least then, futures were painted
in spectrums of grayscale
and we sat in the middle of a see-saw:

everything was open for interpretation
and we could decide whether
we wanted to go up or down.

Now, with gray hair filling in,
we walk with downcast eyes
unable to ask any questions
because we’re afraid of the answer

or we already know the truth
that would be spoken
if we waited for it
since our worlds have
turned to black and white

and decisions have been revealed
as not ours to make
because destiny has fooled us
into believing
life was ours for the taking
all this time.

When all we really had to call our own
was our idealistic mentalities
that have since faded.