Growing up was never hard,

It was always easy; at least for me it was.

 

I didn’t come from a hood, not a city and no barrio.

 

I came from a home where love was always shown,

Honesty was always valued and

Modesty was always implicated.

 

As a kid, I was always told that everything was possible.

Everything was easier.

Classwork, homework, making friends.

No one judged, no one cared.

 

Playing kickball on the street, eating some sweet treats and racing to the trees.

 

Chasing each other down the street,

 “Tag you’re it”

“You never touched me!”

“Yes I did”

 

Twelve-years-old and we’re in a world where we’re all absorbed in our phones.

 

I’m growing up.

  

Fifteen-years-old and we’re freshmen this year.

Everything gets harder.

Classwork, homework, making friends.

Everyone judges, still, no one cares.

 

“Did you see what she’s wearing?”

 

I’m growing up.

 

Now I’m eighteen-years-old, and I’m goin’ to college.

I’m getting a degree to get a career.

 

I couldn’t be prouder but I can’t help to think,

 

I’m growing up.