Transforming Poetry

Growing up

We all have to grow up,
I know that now, most of all,
But there was a time before,
When we were all sweet and innocent,
Before we learnt swear words and sex,
Before we payed bills and stressed.
There was a time before all of this,
A time without the knowledge we hate,
When our minds were filled with wonder,
At the world around us, the beauty,
When our eyes stared unblinking,
Unflinching, at the future we had.
We came up with ideas,
Of who we would be,
What we would do,
Who we would marry,
But then we grew.
And we learnt that sometimes,
You have to do many things,
That maybe you don't have a 'calling',
A profession that you suit,
You end up working just for money,
Rather than love of work,
And you realise also,
You can't even control your personality.
You are moulded by people around you,
Spending time with bad people,
Can turn you bad too,
Though when you were little,
The stories told you of heroes,
And you said 'that's who I'll be!',
Before realising it's impossible.
When surrounded by people who
Grew faster than you,
People who learnt earlier than you did,
Because there's always someone,
Someone who figured it out before,
Someone who noticed this life is a sham,
And they broke the stained glass,
Surrounding the rot, hiding it away,
And they breathed in the spores,
And let it settle in their lungs,
Their heart, their mind,
Rotting them too.
So they can spread rot to others.
Spread it to you.
So you can spread too,
Because that's what growing up is,
It's a breakdown of cells,
As they speed you towards death,
As they kill you inside out,
As you spread decay to others,
And you show them the real world,
Because growing up is where,
You finally see the reality,
And you shatter coloured glass,
To at last look upon the truth.
When we are smaller, younger than others,
We think "I can't wait to be a teenager",
We think of all we'll be able to do,
Independence, learn to drive, earn money.
But when you reach the age,
You once thought was the best,
You realise it's actually not that great,
You're not as independent as you thought,
Or rather, you are, but you wish it away,
You want to go back to the times,
When mum cooked your meals,
And bought you your clothes.
Before rent came and taxes,
Now you have to look after yourself,
And you didn't realise how hard it would be,
How much you would wish,
To go back to a podgy two year old,
Asleep in a pram,
As mum buys the shopping.
Humans are funny that way,
We strive for years,
To reach what we think will make us happy,
To get that dream job,
That dream house,
That dream wife or husband,
But that's just it,
It's a dream,
All a dream.
Nothing in this world comes free,
Except maybe pain,
But sometimes even that has a cost,
We struggle for so long,
And when we finally reach what we wanted,
We see it's not all that great.
"The grass is always greener...",
On the other side?
The other side of what?
I think it should be, the grass is greener,
When it's out of reach.
As soon as you reach it,
It's value is gone,
It's mysterious aura evaporates,
We can see for ourselves what we knew all along,
It's just grass.
More grass, that's all.
Until we spot some more up ahead,
That always looks better,
So we make our way to that,
Looking for green shoots to eat our fill,
Ignoring the last patch,
Moving on quickly.
But again, we are disappointed,
And again we don't eat,
Just look for better elsewhere.
Till finally, we starve,
And can no longer search,
Can no longer wonder around,
Looking for Greener grass.
We stop and we fall,
Because we can finally see,
How useless it all was,
Growing up was a trap,
Wrapped up in sparkly paper,
Glistening brightly, drawing us in,
But no matter what you put,
On a rotten orange, it will still be,
A rotten orange.
No amount of glitter will change that,
When you rip open the package,
It's still worthless,
Just like adult life.
It's a mess, a mess of poison,
Decorated insensitively,
Dolled up, as precious as a whore,
And we all fall for it.
Hook line and sinker.
Gobbling it down before tasting the mould,
Before noticing the ashen flavour,
The crumbling mess in our mouths,
But by the time we try to spit it out,
It's already sliding down our throats,
There's nothing we can do.
Once we discovered the truth,
We couldn't go back,
So we clipped our seat-belt in,
Attaching ourselves to the car,
As it plummets off the cliff,
Simply letting it take us,
Because it's too late for us.
So I warn you now young ones,
You think you want to grow up?
Don't trust the fancy wrappings,
The glitter and bright colours,
Ignore the catcalls to come and join
No matter her looks, a prostitute
Is still a prostitute, cheapening herself
Putting a price on her body
Don't trust fancy clothes and makeup
Don't trust the sparkling images
Pay no attention to it all
Calling you in, trying to pull at you
Wanting to drag you too early
Into the horror that is the real world
Ignore it all and treasure,
The moments of your youth,
They won't last very long,
So enjoy them while you can,
Believe me, all grown-ups envy you.