Emily likened a book to a frigate

Emily likened a book to a frigate,
but the mind too is its own vessel
Take me where you will Mind,
there is nothing at present for me out there.

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Growing Up

Wouldn’t we all stay in Childhood if we could choose?

Instead we are trapped in reminisces, wishing

they hadn’t fooled us with the words they’d used

“growing up” for a person diminishing.

 

Sure, we are wiser, and not all adults are rotten,

but who doesn’t long for some previous self?

like we could step back into them, if only they hadn’t gotten

so maimed through the years

now sitting there

like shrunken skulls on a forgotten shelf