INKSTANE

I don't think I'm ready to grow up, nor will I ever be. 

I'm not ready to be responsible and sensible every day. 
I'm not ready to drive by a night club and think that I am not in my 20's anymore, so therefore too old to drop in.
I'm not ready to walk down the street on a snowy day and not try to catch snowflakes on my tongue.
I'm not ready to stop jumping in puddles.
I'm not ready to run out of the rain, afriad of getting wet.  I'd rather dance in it.
I'm not ready to stop wanting to fall in love with different people, each and every day.
I'm not ready to allow a boring day to be made up of sole sitting around and watching TV all day.
I'm not ready to stop running wild in the streets with my girlfriends, looking for the next line of mischief we can get ourselves into.
I'm not ready to go to bed at a decent hour, so that I can always feel rested.
I'm not ready to live a boring mundane life.
I'm not ready to just accept my fate, because the universe says there's no other way.
I'm not ready to conform my mind, body or spirit to what society deems acceptable.
I'm not ready to live for others while I allow myself to die inside.
I'm not ready to stop dreaming
I'm not ready to accept what others think I should be, nor am I ready to care.
I'm not ready to be Love's suicide or life's concubine.
I'm not ready to just sit here in this life and be the good, tame and wholesome.
I'm not ready to hate others, because they are not like me.
I'm not ready to sit back and watch others do stupid things, because it's impolite to speak up.
I'm not ready to sit idly by and not have a voice of my own.

I'm not ready to die, nor will I ever be....