STOP...The words you've heard since age two,

Your parents are like, "Yeah I'm talking to you."

You crawl into a corner and hope you won't be found,

But there they are as you turn around.

You hands are shaking and your stomach is weak,

As the world continues to appear bleak.

As you grow old, you begin to realize,

That the first ones to leave you are the ones you idolize.

Now as time races, you gotta catch up,

And never again end up in the rough.