“When I grow up,”
I say
From too-tall counters, unfair portions, summer bedtimes.
When I grow up,
I hope
For friends, a car, no one ever telling me, “No.”
When I grow up,
I think
Promises will be kept, rules followed; the world blacks and whites.
Grown up,
I see
Crumb-filled countertops, imperfect pieces, little sleep.
Grown up
I wish
For friends, fewer expenses, parents’ good advice.
Grown up
I learn
People are human, rules bend; the world….
Is rainbowed
I take a crayon and draw my mind:
Greening forest,
Glittering sky,
And a yellow tent,
Glowing from within.
But mostly don’t grow up Chelsea or it may get to be real
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*sigh* It grows more corporeal each year.
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Beautiful!
Your yellow tent, worn with experience, colored by hopes and dreams!
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Yes. 🙂 Still working on being entirely lit from within though.
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I’m guessin’ the light is fully there, but the glass is a bit smudged with busyness… 😉 ❤
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A lot of kid fingerprints. 🙂
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‘Zackly!!
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That’s lovely – and so true … Oh to start all over again and appreciate ones youth and the untroubled lives we had … x
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Thanks, Katie. 🙂
In some ways, starting over is quite appealing.
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That’s a very beautiful piece
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Thank you. 🙂
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Adulting is not all it is made out to be.
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Yes, exactly!
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A great juxtaposition of perspective from what a child wants to what an adult learns. Yet I love the last act of the adult taking the crayon and acknowledging a rainbow world.
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Thanks, Charli. It made slightly more sense at 300ish words… 😉
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Excellent writing Chelsea
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Thanks, Nitin. It was almost there…
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