IMMATURE? NO, I'M MATURE
Maturity is something which
Has come and gone with me.
I am a man - but then can be
A boy again, you see.
Sometimes, I can set aside
My adult obligations...
Trading them for short-lived fun
In said sad celebrations.
Something deep and within me
Is triggered in my mind.
This, I ask - is what I seek
In life so hard to find?
Maybe so, and why I choose
To often make a task
Out of escaping who I am
By putting on a mask.
Saying this, I am aware
There is another choice...
This depends on me more so
To speak and use my voice.
How will anybody know
If I do not express?
Keeping it inside leaves me
With nothing to address.
I know that I am good enough
And that I will succeed
As long as I keep this in mind...
That I am all I need.
Being immature will not
Get me anywhere.
Instead, deciding to man up
Is sure to get me there.
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