Of growing up.

The world suddenly weighs on my shoulder
Strangers that turned friends
Have gone back to being strangers
And friends now, think I’m naïve.

There’s a sudden nudge
from everyone around,
to get work done faster
in ways better than before.

But buds are to bloom on their own
Not to be pricked this way.
If it were meant to be like this
why plant the seed anyway?

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