Sunday, 3 January 2016

Not Much To Be Sad About Yet


The younger kid 
Looks at the older girl 
And wonders
Why she doesn't drive yet

Why she's still riding the
School bus,

He wonders
Why her ears are plugged 
So deep,
Throbbing with sounds
He can almost hear.

He wonders 
Why she looks so sullen.
So somber.

At his younger age,
There's not as much
To be sad about yet.
But he doesn't know.
And she's not about to tell him.

They're separated by years
And he can't quite understand her
But she understands 
Him,
wondering.
Because she used to do it too.

Why did i ever grow up?
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