From youth to adulthood, growth.
From childish to maturity.
The affair of maturing is pricey.
There is a brutal realization that accompanies.
Is it shedding that which blinded us?
To enter as a Man or Woman, facing reality?
Or perhaps it is adopting ignorance blissfully.
Still, one seems unsure.
Maturing is the death of that child within,
Where that precious child is tossed aside.
The adult within takes the reigns,
Navigating the soul through living.
Yet, it is as well the death of the being.
Within each remains a child still,
Thus, a nature which seems ever present
Peeking behind the adult, seeking to come out and play.
But the wave of life requires a master,
One who is fully capable of maneuvering,
One with a capacity grand.
................................................an ability...me
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