Seventeen in Sixteen

Seventeen in sixteen,

I touch the tip of childhood

letting the memories flow through

and the future to stand still as I

wait, puzzled

at the crossroads of life.

 

Seventeen in sixteen.

I tip the cup of life over

and allow adulthood to begin to spill

and cover up the murky past

that has grown sour,

pour me a new glass.

 

Seventeen in sixteen, 

I watched the world crumble

and see adulthood slip into my hand

forced there

as I scream back for childhood.

But I have grown too aware.

 

Seventeen in sixteen,

as it ends

the world still is falling, falling

but I am rising, rising

and will not look back

as I take the step into that dark, ominous frontier. 

This poem is about: 
Me
Poetry Terms Demonstrated: 

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