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Array
(
[sid] => 21624
[catid] => 1
[aid] => Mick
[title] => Caught between growing up and being grown up
[time] => 2003-08-08 15:05:00
[hometext] => It has been a while since I last wrote poetry. I have begun to lose my way with words... but I had something to say and this poem is it. ... it says a lot about growing up.
[bodytext] => Its easy to hold a grudge against someone; that's what humans do. They watch, they listen and they judge. That's just how the human mind works and operates. And I thought I had the answer to the problem. I was honest, thankful and kind. But being those got me nowhere. People pushed me down and laughed at my words. They judged me... they never took the chance to get to know me. I began to realize all the little issues, all the minor complications surrounding me. Her chest wasn't big enough, his hair was too long and that was just the jist of it all. Everyone was forced to wear a mask on the fore front. One they created. One that no one could take off and throw to the ground. It was their own sense of protection against what people really thought. And even though they could go home at night and cry themselves to sleep, thinking about how miserable their lives were... they could still go to school the next day, with that heart melting smile. I was one of them. And even though they could smile as if they didn't care, when they actually did. And they could laugh as if everything was okay... they still judged and they still laughed at those who were different. Even through their own pain and agony they could cause someone else the same pain. When I started writing poetry I was just short of being a grown up and far away from being a kid. I had been caught somewhere in the middle. A friend of mine told me once, "it is not hard once you have reached that "grown up", but it is the time before that, the growing up that kills you." And I realize now that she is right. I had been young and naive. I had thought I could lose myself in my writing. I was just a seventh grader... who had an astrodinary gift. But time changes people and only now do I realize that even I wear a mask. And through this mask people change, and with this mask they can keep on living. And because of this mask we are who we are, and that never changes. [comments] => 4 [counter] => 220 [topic] => 21 [informant] => stargazer [notes] => [ihome] => 0 [alanguage] => english [acomm] => 0 [haspoll] => 0 [pollID] => 0 [score] => 0 [ratings] => 0 [editpoem] => 1 [associated] => [topicname] => Lifepoems )
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