Middle Age

How time has flown by and my gray hair says it all of time gone, though when I leaf the pages back just a little, yesterday I was that teenager, yesterday a child who wanted nothing more than more candy and I've seen the train wrecks, I've seen the stories, I've heard the different versions, I've seen the lies, I've seen the truths, I've been stomped on, I've been taken for a ride, I've been told to follow orders and I've rebelled, not to long ago I was wincing away because I did so much wrong to fight for what I felt was right. I no longer wince. They lied. They protected. They told stories that shown themselves in the best light. And I'm done with stories. Done because I now realize that is how stories begin, we've learned about them as a kid, when we made our first excuses and magic 18 or 21 suddenly frees, and the fence and bars come quickly when it is quickly felt that like laws of matter, laws of social convention exist, as does some many frills and what not. Done. You've said your piece, now I'll say mine and we are two boxers in a ring. No longer am I the child. Inequalities still exist but I am no longer the kid that simple just did as he was told.