Growing Up


No one ever said that life was easy

Bill-paying and working make me queasy

This responsibility gets to me

It makes me wish that I could still be three

When my problems were simple as which toy

Which one would I choose to play and enjoy

I miss those carefree days of fun and of play

I’d ride my rocking horse to far away

I’d listen to records on the player

I’d make a tent, blankets I would layer

I’d carry my baby doll everywhere

She was so pretty with brown eyes and hair

Growing “old” is hard and not always fun

If I could, I would start again at one!

betsy
my Vogue baby doll, Betsy

5 thoughts on “Growing Up

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