I could no longer order off a kid’s menu at a sea resort

Now that I was ten

It seemed almost tragic then

To have my childhood cut short

Never to be seen again.

The next thing, I ask

“What should I order?”

“Why are you asking me?”

A grey, uncertain, clogged feeling

A dirty, endless sea.

A horrible habit, really

Asking people for answers

To my questions seems silly

I know to fight it

I want to live freely.

So I practice a little

And a little more

And my decision-making

Is not as poor

And now I am not as restrained

As I thought so anymore.