Maturity

They stripped away my former self, Reduced me to a mere shadow, for "maturity." Before and after, I remained the same, But different personas emerged, all in the name of "maturity." No more colorful socks or shoes with playful straps, I was told, "You're older now," by the voice of "maturity." "Compose yourself," they said, "Your voice is too loud, And your laughter is awkward," all due to "maturity." "Look ahead, not behind," they advised, "Your dreams are beautiful, but not for you," I was informed, at this stage called "maturity." Before and after, I wondered, "Why?" Same person, different facades, all attributed to "maturity." Oh, "maturity," you've transformed me so, But what's the path forward, I must know. How to live within, not without, How to embrace the truth, cast off doubt. How to express, not withhold, How to believe and feel, be bold. How to return to the child within, And learn, once again, to begin. The fault, dear "maturity," lies not with me, But with your heavy hand, you see. Oh, "maturity," why change me so? It's a question I'm left to ponder and mull over.