Sixteen


I thought of that day with anticipation,
Looked on it as emancipation
From all the fears and pains of a kid
All that stuff going under a lid.
But now I've reached it and I know
That all those hopes and dreams were faux.
At heart I'm still a six-year-old
Scared of the dark and death and mold.
All my fears, pains, troubles, and woes
Have just grown bigger, like Pinocchio's nose.
They've been re-sized with huge proportions
And taken new forms and weird distortions.
I know why the dark should not be feared
Why death isn't bad unless you've neared
The end of the road without salvation.

And now I've reached the destination
That, when I was little, looked to me
Like the day that I should get to be
The beautiful bride of a charming prince.
But right now it seems so strange to glance
Around and think I have a chance
Or even a desire to let go just yet
Of everything I know and love and get.
My man will come in God's good time.
Meanwhile I'll deal with my worries in life
All on my own, without a soul to lean on
Without a shoulder to cry on
Without a dream to hope on.

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