Young

I am young and inexperienced

I make mistakes

I am unsure of the world and all its inhabitants

they say its normal and I will grew with time

but I feel that I will be always be young

when do you gain experince?

when does the world make sense?

when do I grew?

when do I learn form my mistakes?

older people know they have all been there but when do I catch up?

a young body is not such a bad thing

enjoy it they say

but a young mind?

we have all been there before

an endless time laspe of inquires and fumbles

I am sick of being young!

I am sick of not knowing!

I am sick of it will passes

When do I grow

when can I look back and say I was young.

 

This poem is about: 
Me
Our world

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