An open letter to Grown-ups

To all the Suits, the Bewares,

The Care-Too-Muchs and the I-Dont-Cares.

I just wanted you to hear me say,

that: No! I’m not a grown up in any way.

I don’t brush my teeth twice a day.

I forget important things,

Cos' important things have Grown-up rings,

Grown-up things with grown-up shoes,

Not suited to my childish views.

I don’t read the morning news.

I love to dream, to explore,

To imagine myself on an unknown shore.

To sleep in clouds

And dance with knights.

And fly away on stormy nights.

I love to laugh, to forget,

Meet new people I’ve never met.

Then promptly have them fade away,

Unless bribed, then they can stay,

In my heart like squirrels may.

I love to bruise and cut,

my arms, my legs, my butt,

I wear them proud, like battle-scars,

Gained from fighting aliens in the stars.

Not from falling down from the monkey bars.

I love my little childish ways,

So please, oh please don’t take me away

to your world, so cold and gray,

Come to mine, to laugh and play.

I promise you, it will be fun.

We can dance and laugh and sing and run.

Make wooden swords and jump on beds,

Spin little stories in our heads,

And believe them.

But in your world under a gloomy sky,

I’d think I would rather die.

Float to heaven or down to hell,

Into stars or down the well,

And in the dirt to dwell.

I’d rather eat poison or jump a cliff,

Stand in a furnace or under a lift,

Maybe shoot myself or get a wife,

Anything other than living your grown-up life.

So kill me now, unless you take my hand,

And we all go to Neverland,

Cos’ even if I’m eighteen or eighty-three,

I’ll always be a kid and I’ll always be free.