As a child we are in the dark.
All the things that our parents keep from us.
They make the world seem
like a safe and great place
where we can dream
and become whatever we want.
As children we see things
in a different perspective
than adults. But what is an adult?
Someone who is mature ,
smart , and wise?
Someone who is a certain age?
Someone who has lived
through a certain amount
of pain, happiness?
How do you measure
something like that?
I like to think that when all
those monster under your bed
turn into your subconscious
, the fear of the dark turns into
being afraid of what is in the dark,
and when you feel that first real
headache of stress,
is when you turn into an adult.
Being a child is just being a person with
safety goggles on,
but when those goggles come off and
you realize what the world really is about,
THAT is becoming an adult.

Poem Rating:
Click To Rate This Poem!

Continue Rating Poems

Share This Poem