Youth

I am young, my heart’s strong. I carry on and you have to know where I come from. Speaking for my youth, the babying I wish to lose. Age is what I would do. To be older would be nice, immaturity’s gone—what a delight. It’s silly to be an old woman. I know what I am doing, its my age’s own doing. Needless for the insecurities, I want responsibility. I do not want to be an elder. Age can be light as a feather, and heavy as we live together. The elders will not understand me. It is okay to be growing for me, depending on my reliability.