Coping with Growing

Am I the bud that’s eager to see the sun

Or the potpourri that wants to be a nun?

Am I the kid that looks at the sky to find stars

Or the girl who looks out the window to stop barks?

Do my eyes sparkle when I see colors on December 31st

Or do I wake up, with the sun above my head, to read the text wishes?

Do my cheeks get wet when Damon dies

Or do I sit up straight on hearing cries?

Am I the dancer who loses track of time

Or the performer who makes everyone smile?

Do I wait for twilight

Or to turn on the night light?

Do I want the moulded self

Or do I miss myself?

Am I the bud that’s eager to see the sun

Or the potpourri that wants to be a nun?