In one week now,
Or slightly less,
I will be thirty-seven.
Although I feel,
The same as when,
I was only eleven.
I’m still that child,
Withdrawn and shy,
And awkward and unsure.
Still wondering,
Am I good enough?
I’m just as insecure.
I thought by now,
I’d be more cool.
More bold, more confident.
But alas, I’m not.
I’m still the same.
But I’m okay with it.
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Random Misanthrope 
So true! I’m 52 (can’t be true) and I still feel the same. I wrote a poem the other day about an awkward awful encounter in Jr High that seems like yesterday. The good thing is that you do become more and more ok, happy and at peace with who you are.
“I’m 52
(Can’t be true)
And I still feel the same…”
I think you have the beginnings of another piece right there. 😉
Though I still have a hard time believing that I’m this old, I too have found that the older I get the easier it is to deal with things that used to bring me to tears before. I have accepted who and what I am. At my age, I know that I’ll never be cool. But who cares? I’d rather be interesting than cool.
Interesting is SO much better than cool.
Damn right, it is! 🙂
Cool! Er, I mean, interesting!
Thanks, Ken!