Must I,

for the sake of maturity,

abandon my former self?

Is it too wrong

to expect

a little piece

of childhood

could tag along on my ride

to adulthood?

What of all

the summer boys

I went pranking with,

all the giggling

girls I pecked on

the cheek?

Must they be a memory?

Must I cast

away from shores

of fatherland-sand

my wishes and dreams

which are clay

that Adam was made of?

I refuse to dismiss

the hope I placed

the love I wasted

on that one giggling

girl

on that one friend

I went pranking with

they weren't just

fill-ins

they were lifelong

friends;

Spurned by that giggling

girls, that summer fling,

and The Boy Of Friend

who absconded with my

childish pride, insulting me;

the altered function

of adult life sets in

upon an otherwise

gleeful existence.

Let me by, you

bastard disciple of

urbanism and commercialism

I don't need your

baseless lies

your corrupting excuse

for a man,

for a life,

for living.