but i don't care if it's cheesy or cliché
i was 12 and knew next to nothing about
how life worked, and i wanted to be happy.
i was 13 and angry and stilll new nothing,
and then 14 and angrier still and i'd seen
a little more and still didn't get it, and
you know what? i wanted to be happy.
i was 15 and i thought i should be happy
forever; i still didn't know that much.
and i was 16, and 17, and 18, and i saw,
and i learned, and i craved, and i scarred.
and i'm 19 now and i know that happy isn't
something you are -- it's something you go
through, it's something you live in bursts,
just like everything else 'life' has to throw
at you. but i am 19, and i burst into tears
too much, and i'm lonely, and i have a lot of
hurts i don't know how to carry without
burning my own fingers, and you know
what? i still want to be happy. yes, i cringe
about embarrassing phases in the past, and
i did things when i was young i would never
do now. but i'm still that kid who, after the dust
had settled, would take the rocks and pain if,
at the end, they got to be happy for part of it.
i am 19 and i know now that life isn't easy, not for
anyone. but i know what my lot in life is, and what
it doesn't always have to be.
and i still love to smile at the sky.
so tell me. who's the one who didn't grow up?
if i have to be immature to want to enjoy the
hours i've been given, let that be. i am content
with that.
i think i grew up all right. i think i did just fine.