Twenty-Five
At twenty-five, I felt the irony of adulting.
The grown ups seemed to know what they did.
I too, seem as if I know what I’m doing.
Hard to keep on with the facade but easier to fool the kids
At twenty-five, I realised that not all is what it seems,
Artificial lights with the brightest beams,
often dim the soft beauty of starlit skies.
Sweet smiles layered with hidden despise
and rude words that true affections disguise.
At twenty-five, I beamed with freedom.
Of being not too young and not too old.
Perhaps the right time to be a beacon,
for all things bright and bold.
Perhaps the right time to make a headfirst dive,
into the unknown would be at the age of twenty-five.
Conquering new territories and feeling more alive.
What better to do at the age of twenty-five?
