#growingup

79 posts
  • sabdoc 19h

    Of Gods And Tigers

    There’s no one as brave as a kitten,
    When she’s only a month old.
    There’s no one as timid as a kitten,
    When only fourteen more days unfold.
    For every ounce of strength
    In muscle, sinew and bone,
    Nature charges courage as payment;
    Loving mother has a heart of stone.
    With every sleepy day and sleepless night,
    A boy and his cat grow older.
    The fire inside burns weaker,
    They know blood now runs a bit colder.
    For age and fear are cronies,
    They arise together hand in hand.
    So that kittens don’t grow up to be tigers,
    And a boy remains just a man.


    ©sabdoc

  • arabelle 1w

    #Run #writersnetwork #childhood #growingup @writersnetwork @readwriteunite @reposter24

    (Omg I forgot to post this?? It wasn't exactly worrh posting though)

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    Run

    As a child, I would run through the lush foliage in our backyard, wondering how marvelous it would be to grow up.

    As I grow up, I run through the crowded hallways at school, rushing from class to class in order to get there on time.

    Life is short. If you're going to run, make it memorable.

    ©arabelle

  • kettana 1w

    Untitled

    shattered again pieces falling like rain drops
    I've been anticipating the storm to hit
    the moment i smelled the salty tears from the sky
    i grip on to myself trying to ground myself
    but i always seem to slip
    im falling now into the eye of the storm
    my feeling of weightlessness is endless
    and time seems to be free falling without me
    lifes memories flashes before my eyes
    first breath
    First steps
    First love
    First kiss
    First kicks
    First cries
    The sweat the blood the tears of every birth
    ive survived so very bittersweet
    Every drop holds pieces of me
    My body trembles with the rush of my historys emotion
    i wrap my arms around myself to shield myself from this upcoming disaster bracing myself for it's impact
    first fight
    first heartache
    First rape
    First sign of abuse
    First Court case
    First shelter
    The rain picks up speed
    The wind blows stronger
    my heartbeat pounds harder in my chest and i take a deep breath as the thunder strikes my feet
    i exhale

    Then there is silence
    Arms and hands grip hard around myself release and i open my eyes to find nothing but clear skies': clouds and sweet song bird melodies
    I guess it's no surprise to find that the storm lies deep within
    ©kettana

  • jokchen 1w

    Ode to my oversized tee

    In a split second thought when I opened the laundry bag,
    I had chosen you.
    Because your colour
    Matched the redness of the blood dripping down my thigh.
    It was the colour I wanted to hide from my brother.

    A few years ago I chose you,
    From my dead uncle's wardrobe for your size
    "Extra large"
    To hide those things that had grown underneath

    And today I choose you
    To wipe the grease off the windows
    Because you are stained
    By the choices I made.
    ©jokchen

  • not_richa 2w

    Very often I think
    whenever I am alone,
    how my childhood
    passed in a blink,
    why have I grown?

    Why is life so enigmatic
    and there is so much rush?
    Why no grown-ups seem static
    even when one day
    all of us must hush?

    Why is it like a catapult
    taking 18 years to get released,
    then suddenly we become adults
    and being a child is ceased?

    Should I must grow up,
    away from this soil brown?
    Have grown up enough,
    now,
    Let Me Grow Down.


    ©not_richa

    Image source: Pinterest

    #writersnetwork #mirakee #pod #dontwannagrowup
    #youngadult #growingup #poetry #poem #readwriteunite

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    _Let Me Grow Down_

    Should I must grow up,
    away from this soil brown?
    Have grown up enough,
    now,
    Let Me Grow Down.



    ©not_richa

  • firstdraftpoet 3w

    One day, you will look around
    And realise that you have
    Surrounded yourself
    With strangers.
    You remember that one time
    When, as a child,
    You let go of your mother's hand
    And ran into the crowd?
    The only difference between then and now
    Is that the ones we left behind
    The ones who are themselves
    Strangers to us now
    Will not come in search of us.

    ©firstdraftpoet

  • sonalikolge 3w

    Feeling like I grew up too fast.
    Responsibilities are tough, conscience's tougher.
    Been failing for so long that it seems routine. Getting it together seems impossible. Can't put my mind to one thing for its scattered all over the place worrying about all sorts of things. Anxiety eating away my calm and nightmares raiding my peaceful sleep. Hoping it all goes away as fast as it came. For I haven't got another option.
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    #likeforlike #sad #happy #mind #heart #strong #weak #depressed #anxiety #depression #burden #growingup #love #live #laugh #cry #followforfollow

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    Feeling like I grew up too fast
    Not strong enough to carry this burden
    But everyone's got to...
    We all don't have another option.

    ©sonalikolge

  • janaranjani_vezhavendan 4w

    Growing Up

  • anamorphosis 4w

    Old Friend

    When we were in grade school, you were the artist and I was the thinker. You make my aprons and my pajamas for work ed and I make your book reports and math equations. You salvage my art works and I catch the volleyball for you when you are too afraid to get hit. I listen and you talk and talk until the bell signals the end of lunch and we walk back to class. With you, I don’t have to say anything. You fill the silence with your endless chatter. That suited me just fine. I’ve always found talking too tiresome. With you, I did not feel the need to say anything. You did the talking. I did the listening ( and sometimes, the punching).

    In high school, you got your period first. Mine did not come until a few years later. It was so funny watching you walk with those bulky pads between your legs. You never were lady like, and having your periods did not make you anymore so. Puberty however also made your mood confusing. Your arts became as intense as your feelings. The change made us clash every now and then, but we always make up. There is something about your early puberty that kept you from being who you used to be. You were growing so fast and leaving me behind. That was kinda sad.

    We did not get into the same university in college. Your NCEE score did not reach average. I got 99. Maybe because there is no work ed or practical matters included in the test. You had to select a course and a school that does not give weight to that. I started my university life and I was overwhelmed by how big a world I’d be in without you in it. You started your college degree and became your very own version of “the renegade”.

    We were eagles taking off with a wing missing. Several years later, it was not surprising to find each other all broken and conquered. Life isn’t like high school, where the bullies only play pranks on you. Life is meaner, nastier. And we faced it alone.

    You got married before I did, and had a son. But it was not a happy ever after kind of thing like you thought it would be. The fate of your marriage left you angry, and broken. You attacked life just as you thought it attacked you. You were self destructive, vindictive, and out to cause pain - because you were so wounded you did not know any other way to deal with it. The world had no time to listen. You were left alone in your own misery, while the world continued to live.

    I got married after med school. Had two kids. It’s no fairy tale either. Mine was a roller coaster life. I tried my best to hang on but I got thrown every which way. It had always been a bumpy ride – this life. But we get used to it. We learn. We adapt. Eventually, it’s no longer all that bad. I learned to put everything in writing, like how we used to do when we were kids. That way, I put the ambiguous into a perspective I can understand. When I do that, it ceases to be overwhelming.

    I know you started painting again. That’s good. The burden of living sometimes make us forget who we really are. We played roles for far too long we’ve forgotten how to live with only our bare skin. You are your paintings. Those vibrant shades that used to represent your excitement is still there deep within your heart, within your soul, untouched by scars and by broken idealism.


    ©anamorphosis

  • sproutedseeds 5w

    ADOLESCENCE.

    Oh God! What should I do?
    I am told that I am neither a child nor an adult,
    Being in my teens, I am a teenager.

    Because I am a teenager,
    amusement, entertainment and enjoyment
    are the things I want,
    but only abuses and punishment
    are what I get.

    Oh God! What should I do?

    I'm aware of my duties
    then why parents behave like security?
    checking put every action
    and questioning every activity.
    Oh God! What should I do?

    When exams are near,
    parents begin to sneer,
    and turn a deaf ear
    when I have to say
    about my exam fear.
    Oh God! What should I do?

    My peers are always dear,
    to remove all the fears,
    they are always there to hear,
    my doubts and queries.

    But Oh God! Now I realize
    that parents and teachers are the best guide
    who look at me with pride
    so, all my fears hide,
    and ny thoughts and joy go wide.

    Thank you God! Now I realize
    that parents and teachers are aware
    that under their observation and care
    I will not lose the way,
    but are confident that
    I will reach my ambition one day.

    Thank you Lord for my realization.

    ©sproutedseeds

  • mokita 6w

    It has been a long while! I sank my canoe this summer and my phone was an unfortunate casualty. My old phone is less capable, but I have cleared it up enough to get Mirakee back.
    "Cracks"
    Interested to hear thoughts and feedback!
    #growingup

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    Skipping
    over sidewalk
    cracks,
    so not to break
    my mother's back,
    I used to wonder
    what growing up
    would be.
    I believed
    in a line,
    that one day I would just be
    Grown.
    But here I am
    Stumbling
    over sidewalk
    cracks
    and my mother's
    back.

    ©h. duxbury

  • arushi_bhandari 6w

    Nostalgic

    When I was a kid life was simple. I never had to worry about my looks. I would wake up early on Saturdays to watch Cartoons. Loosing a sketch pen was the only thing that bothered me. I slept with all of my stuffed toys so none of them got offended. Being proud of myself was as simple as pouring my own glass of milk. I would hide to scare people but soon leave because they were taking too long or I had to pee. The only fake friends I had were the invisible ones. My father's shoulders were the highest place on earth and my mother was my hero. The hardest decision was choosing which game to play. Happiness was getting two stars on homework. I only cried when I scraped my knee. Time never ran out and I went to sleep without any stress. Back then I wanted to grow up fast and become an adult. Damn! I was too innocent to realise how good I had it.
    ©arushi_bhandari

  • firstdraftpoet 7w

    Somewhere along the road
    That runs from childhood
    To maturity,
    We realised that within us,
    We held entire galaxies.
    Somewhere further down,
    We blinked,
    And forgot.


    ©firstdraftpoet

  • oncour 7w

    A letter to the one I love

    #love #soulmate #child #man #beast #growingup #life

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    Soulmate

    As a young boy, I was unlike any of the rest. They played with plastic cars and painted soldiers; dreamt of being football players and movie actors. I wrote stories of a boy that saved the universe; dreamt of fairy tale love and being someone's knight in shining armor. When society felt it was time to label me a man- long before I would ever allow myself to consider that title to be true- I let the crushing, paramount weight of the world decimate that little boy's spirit. I let myself become like all the other little boys. I was the wolf that stalked the forest, leaving a trail of broken hearts in my wake.
    I saved myself from that darkness. But, still, I remained half man, half beast. This hybrid form had the same hopes and dreams of the little boy but with the sharp teeth and clawed paws of the beast. It was this form you met. I came out of the forest and greeted you with a great cloak wrapped around me, hiding what remained of the wolf. Your smile melted away the darkness. Your eyes spurred the sun from its rest to the great height where it now resides. You uncloaked my figure and, to my surprise, I was human again.
    That little boy is now fully grown- a man.
    As a boy, I dreamt of fairy tale love and being someone's knight in shining armor.
    As a beast, I dreamt of fairy tale love and having someone rescue me from my curse.
    As a hybrid, I dreamt of being the little boy again.
    And as a man, I stopped dreaming. I stopped believing in fairy tales. I stopped believing in soulmates. I stopped believing in love. I stopped because of you.
    In you, I found something far greater than anything I ever believed Love could accomplish. I don't have words for what this is; maybe the next step in Love's evolution. Maybe an ancient force that created Love so it could slumber until it found two vessels worthy of overtaking. Or, maybe something entirely different yet in the same vein as Love. If soulmates exist, send mine a gift basket and my regards. Tell her I found someone that doesn't complete my soul; she transforms it into a force of nature.
    If the union of two souls, or the concept of the soul itself, has never been real, then whatever this is between us, has pulled it right out of the fairy tale books and into reality.

  • muskanmahajan2602 7w

    BOOK OF LIFE

    Be the writer of your own story, paint the pages with love,beauty, knowledge and magic. Make every letter engraved in your book add to become a meaningful poem full of abstract and art . Twist and turn things in the unexpected ways. Fill yourself with knowledge of the world, universe and the stars. Spend time on nourishing these pages with the stuff which matters, rather than wasting it with the insignificant things which aren't gonna count in the end. Stuff the pages with hope, faith and comforting rays of warmth. Cushion them with awestrucking experiences, crazy adventures and oozing bubbles of bliss. Color it with the waves of human depths, mystical complexities and the questions of curiosities. It's gonna end someday, so why not make the whole safari remarkable, and end it with a bangity bang. It's your story, your chapters, your characters, your essence and your ending, it's gonna be whatever you mould it into. Make your book of life, a god damn best seller while you still can
    ��
    ©muskanmahajan2602

  • gauthami_kiran 9w

    Between saying yes and willingly saying no to something we want....we learnt setting priorities over conveniences!

    ©gauthami_kiran

  • defined_by_thoughts 9w

    //We Forget

    As we grow up, we forget what it is like to smile at the rising sun.
    As we grow up, we forget what it is like to enjoy under the warmth of sun.
    As we grow up, we forget what it is like to dance under the rain.
    As we grow up, we forget what it is like to cry over petty things.
    As we grow up, we forget what it is like to express emotions in front of people.
    As we grow up, we forget what it is like to dream of fairytales and faraway castles.
    As we grow up, we forget what it is like to sing out loud without having a care of this world.
    As we grow up, we forget what it is like to get dirty while playing outdoors.
    As we grow up, we forget what it is like to try counting stars across the vast sky.
    As we grow up, we forget what it is like to laugh out at lame jokes.
    As we grow up, we forget what it is like to blush after having a crush.
    As we grow up, we forget what it is like to fall in love with ourselves.


    As we grow up, we forget too many things and too many people. We forget who we are and what we are. We tend to lose ourselves admist others as we get lost in this so called "small world".





    ©defined_by_thoughts

  • djay1992 12w

    Lost Boy

    "You're doing it, Peter!"
    Said the Lost Boy
    To a man and his imagination
    To a once forgotten land
    Filled with cheers and adventure
    Friends and good memories
    Tucked away in the outermost belt of his memory
    Peter had once planted a seed that grew and grew
    But over time his imagination waned
    And so the seed and flower wilted
    In the absence of his creative thoughts
    Just as his inner child was all but gone
    So too was his memory of Neverland
    A place Peter once called home
    -dillon l. jensen