Growing Up

From the pencils to the pen
And no more that adventurous den
All I have is a question that it happens when.

A question ponders at my head
Is this transition made me mad
No more the fantasy world glads
No more broken leg of my toy made me sad.


Now responsibilities are more keen to me
and the world is quiet mean to me,
My patience is what the world  seek,
And all expect me not to freak.
Being strong has become a necessary trait,
cause crying out loud does not look great.

But even this seems a blessing in disguise
because now some people think I am wise
and they count on me for an advice.

I can explore this world on my own,
and have my life ways clearly shown.
Now, time has to take the decision,
And get a clear vision.

I don't know whether I love or hate,
But I am blessed with life so great,
since it come so far and made me realise
that growing up is not a situation,
But it's a necessary emotion.