Adult

One more month,
Fourteen more days,
Three more hours,
And twenty-four minutes.

I'll be an "adult"
Based off the day I entered the world,
Measured not by my integrity, personality,
But simply by the age of these young bones.

Weird, is it not, all these years I've been forgot,
But a child, but a nuisance,
But a baby in a crib.

Let's not let you out,
Let's keep you in.

Until you turn to the proper "age",
Until your body wears away a little more.

Let's keep you on the same page,
Out of practice,
Off the stage,
And in a little land we call the land of nevermore.

Nevermore, as a great adult
Shall I request a Coca-Cola,
It ought to be some form of smoothie
Or water with a lemon.

Nevermore, as a fashionable adult,
Shall I say what I really think
And resist the rulings of a society
Gone wrong.

Nevermore is it safe to cry
For big strong arms won't sweep you up
And hold you till you think
The world's gone mad
Outside those arms,
But that within them it's alright.

I am now but to be a slave
To fashion, grades, and to a trade,
To society and what I'm paid,
To governments and people slain.

I'm happy I was never paid
Such attention as a child.

For nevermore would I cry
Or feel such emotion I could die
Or hope the world to be no lie
Or even hope for more.

But in one more month
And fourteen days
And three hours
And seventeen minutes,

Nevermore will I know myself,
I'll put me heart upon the shelf
And do as the world has bade,
Lose myself, and slowly fade.