To be young and pretty, blessed with good looks,
Siren like glances reeling in the rooks;
Eighteen candles eve, a maiden so fair
Could party like mad, the devil may care.
To knock back drinks, rock up the dancefloor
Is quite simply what our brief youth is for:
Endorphin rushed, violet hazed evening
Wondering what the year ahead shall bring.
Undoubtedly, a newer adventure.
To travel new seas, a brush with danger
In the shape of a dark, rugged stranger.
Perhaps too bizzarre a reminiscence
Fairytale, the last shread of innocence.
Not that we should regret our coming age,
But instead celebrate turning a page
Deep within the dusty volume of Life;
So provided mischief avoids strife,
No restraints on festivities tonight
And euphoria for a new ID
As now an adult forever you'll be.
Author notes
A poem dedicated to Steph, last year.
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