Walking down through the lanes in the flashback times,
When immaturity was as fresh as thymes.
Precisely measuring the chocolate bar before sharing.
Kicking and punching with siblings resembling pigs fighting.
And there arrives the referee, mom to make things upright.
Her anger filled voice and words scream loudly Grow Up….
Through the valley of backbenches, where frolic was set up.
Away from the teacher’s proximity, place to start up.
Red pen marks stating very poor, homework incomplete to round up,
Mam yelling at the peak of her voice Grow Up….
Roaming around the beaches of teenage,
When the sea shells are at their vantage.
Heart is being damaged and spirit goes down in the trash dump.
Calmly the Best friend explains, get over it and Grow Up….
Heading towards that blurred turning point,
Inquisitive to know, if at all it has some resting joint.
Way to those unanswered questions, does marriage needs to be sign up?
Softly, dad’s eyes conveyed Grow Up…