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Catching Up
I'm one and forty but going on six,
This age disparity I must try fix,
The mirror reflects my manly stubble,
Yet I'm somehow stuck in this boyhood bubble.
I've gone to my passport to verify,
What's printed inside can't speak so can't lie,
There right before me the year I was born,
So 'tween boy and man you see I am torn.
There's parts I enjoy being a full grown kid,
But boy-like fears of myself must I rid,
And submit to this erstwhile overlap,
'Til both my personas can bridge this gap.
The two must make friends in a bid to unite,
The older whom with the greater insight,
Must harbour the child and protect him thus,
Allaying all those fears and anxiousness.
And face the future forever entwined,
A closeness forged of the Siamese kind,
Having then picked the locks to their soul cages,
Spend uncontrollably freedom's wages.
poem
by
Greg Costello
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