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How I Won Maturity

I love the days
we deem spare
full of colourful straws
and sweetened air,
with all the girls
lined up dark to fair
and the innocent lads
who don't yet care.
We would hide our faces
behind our hands
and shakes our heads
at brusque demands.
We'd play in a storm
in imaginary lands-
our only excuses
our "but"s and "and"s.
Oh, the day we learnt
in ways all too clear
what it meant
to scream in fear.
When all support
did disappear
and all that was left-
a dewdrop tear.
Primary school
taught many a thing-
about germs and divorce
(how not to sing).
When we covered road safety,
we knew everything
yet I'll never forget
the sound of a clattering ring.
My friend and I
had looked both ways.
I had a fluorescent jacket
even on hot days.
But a driver hit us both.
Although crime never pays,
the person hit and ran
while I was in a daze.
My friend died that day;
our friendship ring broke,
but I don't blame the driver
(in his own sweat he'll soak).
No, I do blame myself
because life was such a joke
and the last jibe I'd given
I wish I hadn't spoke.
So I love colourful straws
and innocent things.
I adore summer days
and old park swings.
I love all friendship
and the joy it brings.
I love safety talks
and promise rings.
So now I can revel
in the role I've been cast
I'll make life better
and build it to last.
In memory of my friend
and the nostalgia that's amassed,
I am an old lady
living in the past.

29 May 10

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this is really great
 — psychofemale

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