Time Machine

Author's Note:

This is a poem that I wrote about being a little kid, waiting to grow up, thinking that we had all this possibility, but before we are allowed to get there--we're stuck somewhere in the middle.  Not a kid, but not an adult. 

When I was little,

All I could do is want to grow up

Now I'm halfway there

And I wish I didn't have to show up

I didn't expect for life

To come at this high of a cost

And now the youth that I once had

Is going, going, lost

Now I'm here, right where I wanted

But know there is no fault

And that I'm referred to as child

But expected to act like an adult

If I could ask for anything

I would go back in time

And find everything that I once loved

That I got to call mine