I want to be an astronaut,
A jet pilot, a bird.
I want to be an author,
Who wields the weighty word.
I want to be a fireman,
An arsonist, a fire.
I want to be a magician,
A walker on a wire.
I want to be a warrior,
A dragon in the den.
I want to be an explorer,
A gold medal Olympian.
I want to be an educator,
A musician, or a vet.
I want to be that crazy man,
Who owns a hundred pets.
I want to be a pioneer,
And an inventor, too.
I want to be a lover,
And loved by one like you.
I want to be a child at heart,
And see the world with awe.
I want to be an adult, yes,
But not right now, mama.
I’m having too much fun with life,
I’m only twenty-eight.
I see no risk of growing up,
Too little or too late.
As long as I keep growing,
Learning, laughing, alive,
I know I’ll be an adult,
Before it’s time to die.


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6 CommentsLeave a comment

  1. well done take on the word prompt…

  2. I like this – the way you did it AND the message.

  3. Well done, and a sentiment all too familiar. We always want to be something at that distant, indefinable moment of adulthood. I think it’s funny when a child asks me what I want to be when I’m grown up. The ironic thing for me is that I wanted to be so many things, but never a teacher. I got my certificate to please my mom. Then I needed a job and became a teacher, and loved it…and still do.

  4. First, thank you for stopping by.

    Second, this poem was adorable! And I agree with the message, as you might suspect.

    AND I love love love your blog title and caption. I relate all too often!

  5. awesome! I agree, there is no hurry :)

  6. Relieved you don’t call yourself an adult at 28 – A couple of decades to go…at least.

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