TIME TO GROW UP? OR TOO LATE?

Think we'll ever grow up?

A MEDITATION

"The evil which men do lives after them.
The good is oft interred with their bones."
--Mark Antony: speech in Julias Caesar

Does it happen to every man, that at a certain age,
A little boy is trying desperately to break out?
To escape grownupship?

I was / am always that kid.
Adults everywhere, always--
Well, they act so mature...
Seemingly not just going somewhere
But they know WHERE!
Somehow, in some way, I
Admire that.
(Although I do like to surprise myself!)

Then again, mostly,
That little bird which
I am, I love to be.

(Recalling my poem:
"Fly little bird
Fly with the wind.
For if you don't
You'll have sinned.......")

Tweet, Tweet
Just be.
Just me.
Who else ever?

During my earlier life
I was always--always someone else.
Another.
Full of wisdom, Power
Handsome, with good teeth!

My childlike world of
Fantasy, make-believe lasted,
Well, long--until today at least

Maybe it was / is an escape
From becoming an adult.
Decisions,
Responsibilities
Consequences
Money.

Funny:
When little boy
Has 'grownup' day
He becomes
Astute, in a way.
So all the Peeps will say
"Isn't he fine, smart and a
Good-looking young man?"
(They--sightless ones--grin!.)

'Cause, ugly as sin
Here me be,
Finally, really me.

No more nor less than
A hunk of clay
Forkful of hay
and, to be sure.....
A bit of manure!

Man's evil lives long on its own.
Good oft forgot, as is his very bone.