Pathway

They call us kids.

They say we're grown.

Tell us to grow up.

They say we're young.

Say act your age.

But I don't understand my age.

To walk away,

from days of learning.

Into a sweat,

a time of stirring.

To follow heart

or follow mind.

But never often to combine.

To endure

or to break down.

Use pennies now

or debt secured?

Does our walk,

increase our knowledge?

Or our travel,

without a care?

Do we float,

like a leaf in the wind?

Or sail against it,

in hope to find?

Some come prepared.

Some given nothing.

But each person will be pulled,

into moments they cannot control.

And those prepared will still lack skill

and those with nothing will be changed.

All kids will leave a world behind,

of fairytales or lives derailed.

Empty spaces or average places.

They want us to be dreamers,

then we're told to get it together.

But clouds are hard to reach,

and sometimes it rains.

Never do we see,

an arrogant mind in our core,

Never should we leave,

an itch to search for more.

But every young'n will walk forward,

alone in their own ways.

And every adult will be imperfect,

as the child somewhere stays.

These young adults live lost,

wandering aimlessly and worriedly.

A feeling of uncertainty and unfortunately-

that's just how it goes.

The only consolation,

that one day they could find their way.

One day young adults will not be young,

and they will not be lost.

Or at least not as lost,

and when they do look back,

they laugh.

Laugh about how they see,

that they had lived a pity party.

Laugh because they had reached out,

looking for someone to help.

Laugh because they now,

are the ones clasping those hands.

Laugh because,

life is not about them.

To give is all it is,

to fill a heart with fullness.

To give love, 

to see all those around you.

And to look above and know,

you are loved and have someone to love.