Growing older against his will, not quite over the hill, more or less a child still.
Skateboard in hand, mother beside to understand, a sheepish look, not in a boy band.
On wheels or walking, not much talking, girls are for stalking.
The future beckons, now is here, perhaps a cigarette, a beer.
Or maybe not, awkward is as awkward does, I don’t know why, I’m here because.
I am in life, life is in me, I’m growing up to be a tree.
I’m just another guy you know, my father said I told you so.
And so I go.
18th January, 2016