Am I Rightly Twenty Three?

me thinking

Days of dreams and lovely beings.
Across the rainbow skies, they spin.
Mermaids sing and sailors sway.
Flower elves mend the shoes for me.

Years of truth and living in, we are now too old
for fairytales ending. The sag in our faces
say too much. Botox, perhaps we all need.
Money and bills clutter our minds.
Our hands busily on the assignment
we must complete. For peace of mind
and future ease. This is how they say
we should live.

A lifetime of me who I pursue. I say
gawky it turns out to be.
A twenty three old in a kid’s charade
still.
But isn’t all just a game make believed
by minds of
the restlessness
and
the competitive?

Where could I stand and where should I be?
When all I want is to twirl around
to the beats of the drum
that fall deaf
on the ears of
one
too many.

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