When my bedtime storybooks turned into schools gobbledygook,

And sidewalk chalk became just a memory,

I knew it was the end.

The end of silly songs,

The end of forgiving wrongs,

The beginning of the end,

The finish to all my pretend.

When I outgrew my toy house,

And had to wear an itchy blouse,

I knew it was the end.

But hey, it's not all that bad,

Being grown up isn't just a fad.

It's the beginning of a new era,

One with heels, dresses, and mascara.

One with permits, parties, and dates.

No more playing, running, screaming,

But the future which lays before me is gleaming.

Gleaming with potential, 

Shimmering with possibilities,

Maybe being old isn't too bad,

It's just all of the responsibilities.