To turn eighteen

No longer a juvenile fiend

You’re an adult now, be proper

The one-eight requires poise and posture

I was seven just two breaths ago

Now stuck in the endless cycle of “go go go”

Used to drive a pink barbie jeep

Now a real one- the breaks squeak

To turn a legal adult is dire

So much responsibility it requires

Birth certificate is now just a reminder

Of how my bones are on a timer

Forced to blow out the one-eight that's on fire

Eighteen years I’ve been a movie crier

So many I’ve watched coming of age

Now I resonate with those on stage

Going too fast I need to be saved

Wait, hold on, No, don't turn the page

I don’t wish to start a new-age chapter

Turning eighteen is no happily ever after

Abundance of candles set the house on fire, disaster after disaster

Used to indulge in Junie B. Jones, now I read Thrasher

All these decisions that need to be made now

What? Playing? I don't remember how

In terror I watch the clock hands tick

Whoever created time was a selfish prick

Birthday parties becoming a semi-funeral

The great equalizer has never been more cruel

Would I like to know how many years I'm allotted in this life?

Or would that cause never-ending strife?

Oh to turn eighteen 

Watch the falling and unforgiving sand

Or instead the moving of the restless hand