Grown

shaded moments under tree of youth
my vision unlike that of child or adult
rather than shades of gray and white
vivid hues of forceful commotion
collide to form day's memory
feeling my age while keeping my youth
my conscience knows true right from wrong
not yet harmed by indefinite reasoning
and still left in heartbreak with other's lost carelessness
the crevice between still holds my soul
solace for worries ride on childish wims
to carry me away from gravity's steadfast rule
embrace the things i'll smile upon
while holding all responsibilities
tracing the outlines of my stencil
and improvising detail as i go along
altogether defining what others will see in my mirror
will i let them break my playful will?
or can i sustain composure
but still let my hair free?