I'm Not Peter Pan

Crowded rooms never felt so empty

and voices never sounded so fake.

Cunning and wit are lost upon them

as their jest and jeers all rake

thin ribbons across a fleshy face.

Though they are called friends,

these strangers are aliens, obscure.

These hands are new, this face young yet

this age, trapped within, holds no allure,

to a girl so old, locked in this case.

Her speech is wrong and off,

with eyes a million miles away.

This body of a child is all they view

assuming it has nothing of value to say.

Their ignorance may be her coup de grace.

To stay a little boy forever,

what a dream it must have been.

But she is no Peter, and she longs,

longs to grow and stretch her skin.

This old soul just wants to take her place.