The Attic

They tell you to never grow up,

But they don’t tell you that is impossible.

That time doesn’t stop just because you say it will.

That your body will grow too big for your young heart to handle,

That your mind will grow weary and tired,

While that tiny, curious soul remains trapped in there, somewhere.

That the halls of your mind, no matter the upkeep,

Will grow dank and murky somehow.

They tell you never to grow up.

I didn’t, and look where that got me.