[stylist] Childhood's end (for change assignment)

[Barbara Hammel]

This is a poem I wrote a long time ago.  I’m still trying to work up something new, because that’s what these are supposed to do, but maybe I could rework the thing with a new title or something.  If it doesn’t come through in form, it once again is four-line stanzas with lines 2 and 4 rhyming.  Soon you’ll all tell me to get out of my rut.  (I need to, and try now and then.)

   CHILDHOOD'S END





The toys that once lay scattered,

Now are packed away,

The books and crayons you used to use,

On a rainy day.



The innocence of being young,

Is slowly wearing off,

The world around you is opening up,

And you have to prove you're tough.



You can handle cigarettes,

And sex and drugs and booze,

You say this is your life,

You can do anything you choose.



You're not a child any more,

Your playing days are through,

You're sick of being treated like a baby,

You're a grown-up, too.



But thirteen isn't all that grown up,

You'll realize that someday,

You'll wish you were a kid again,

So you could go out and play.



No more talking mom and dad

Into getting you a pup,

No more carefree summer days,

When you are grown up.



The straight-away road is curving,

Turning around a bend,

Just before you're through the turn,

You've reached childhood's end.



No more playing paper dolls,

Or boats in your bubble bath,

It's on to foreign languages,

And Algebraic Math.



No more trucks and cars and trains,

And dolls and teddy bears,

No more making mud pies,

Or sliding down railings on stairs.



No more tears over scrapes and bumps,

Or lost or broken toys,

They're now tears that only girls cry,

Because crying's not for boys.



You might start dating the boy or girl,

Who used to be your best friend,

Things really change a lot,

At a place called childhood's end.



There's no more Bible School,

Or Little League ball,

There's no more playing in leaves,

In the fall.



They're childish things,

Is what you think,

Now it is more fun,

To hang out at the skating rink.



The sandbox was burned as firewood,

The swing set was taken down,

Santa Claus doesn't really exist,

And nothing's exciting about a clown.



The worlds of make-believe have vanished,

So have the games of pretend,

For most people imagination has died,

At childhood's end.



Wars are being fought inside,

As you struggle to mature.

Are you ready to be grown up?

Or aren't you really sure?



At thirteen life is really hard,

But there is a blend,

Of anticipation for the future,

And a sadness for childhood's end.



Childhood's end means many things,

Things both good and bad,

It also brings mixed feelings,

Feelings both happy and sad.



Say good-bye to childhood,

But don't let go without a fight.

Say hello to adolescence,

A grown-up, you're not quite.



You've reached childhood's end,

Your life is changing a lot,

Adolescence has come upon you,

Whether you're ready for it or not.











Barbara



A man who wants to lead the orchestra must turn his back on the crowd. -- Max Lucado