I Used to be You

 Dear Younger Versions of Me Who Still Exist in the Form of ‘Other People’


When I was two,
I was exactly like you,
Trying to run before I could walk,
Screamed, for I could not talk.

When I was five,
I was falling behind
But I was inspired
To tackle language divide

When I was eight,
I learned to contemplate
On the consequences of actions,
On the ramifications of emotions

When I was twelve,
I got a new bookshelf
Non-fiction works for self help
Fiction books of heaven n’ hell

When I was fifteen,
I went through puberty
I’d feel angry then express it
For I wasn’t taught to suppress it

When I was eighteen,
I was just an overgrown teen
Who wanted to control reality
Livin’ a narcissist’s dream

When I was twenty-one,
I went too far with my fun
Then bounced back way too fast
And the results did not last

When I was twenty-four,
I thought I knew it all
But my, I had been so mistaken
In my impulsive instinctive decisions

By the time I’d reached twenty-seven,
I was burned out from all I’d given
To society, to friends, to work,
And had to reconstruct a new world

Though I’m not yet thirty,
I find myself completely free
From a conformist’s version
Of defined and dictated ‘freedom’