I lay as a baby, I barely can walk

I demand "up, up" and my mom picks me up.

I stand as a small girl, balloons in my hand.

"Do not let go" I've been told, 

but I let go to see them go up.

I sit on the swing asking to be pushed;

I love when I go higher and higher,

I want to always go further up.

I am a stressed high school student

I check my grades daily

Wanted my GPA to go up.

Before I sleep I discover

I have been begging to go up

but I haven't realized I've grown up.

My life is ahead of me

but there is a lot of it behind me.

I do not want to grow up.

The stress of my future

makes me feel down.