As children, we wished to grow up quickly.
To move far away from our pertinacious parents,
To come home to a flawless family of our own.
It all happened so fast.
Playing outside until the sun walked away
Turned into endless nights of studying
Riding bikes with our neighborhood friends
Became speeding in cars with the wrong people.
The only pain we felt were the scrapes on our knees from running too fast
We became reserved people in an effort to numb the enduring emotional pain.
The only fake friends we had were our imaginary ones
We were quick to learn that even our best friends would stab us in the back.
Our moms picking our outfits in the morning
Turned into obsessing over our appearance, so that were not judged by our peers.
Our only sadness came from Santa not granting us the toy we begged for
Which evolved into states of depression for reasons we could not understand.
We know now
To cherish our moments.
We dreamed of growing up
And it is not what we imagined it to be.
And now all we want to do
Is go back.
Because growing up
Is not fun.