A fool, I contemplate tomorrow’s fate.
For future truth, I truly yearn to know.
I think, What if? And next, I speculate,
What then? Imagining: Why? and How so?
By thinking through each possibility,
Child’s play thereby extends my youth anew.
As in: When I grow up, What will I be?
Where shall I live? To Whom shall I be true?
Perhaps, it is a foolish errand run
As Culture pulls at me in different ways.
To be responsible is not so fun.
The choice is this: Remain a child who plays.
I find the love of self is not mature,
Which leaves adulthood more or less unsure.
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