I realise..

I am as yet a boy; not build into a man,
I think;I talk, and wanna take my stand.
I, with no efforts, try being 'me',
But that's perhaps not what the world wants to see..


I live life the cool and suspended way;
without caring much what others have to say.
I drive myself into a world of my own,
where there isn't discomfort, nor is pessimism known.


I enjoy every moment I live now-
I find myself right but just cant prove how.
Then the social devil tries to uproot my perfect abode;
the happy-go-lucky me is dead; or perhaps a changing mode


I face the hardships; that's my plight;
But the optimism still lives in me: making it all too light.
I dare not rebel, I don't know against whom to,
The world isn't my enemy, though my frenz are few


I now hear people around me talking,
Some seriousness 'I' am lacking.
What kind of serious am I supposed to be?
Forget all positives, and forget I am free?


I know I think wrong now, coz surviving isn't hard;
But who's ideas are gonna guide me, is there any such bard?
Those who talk, I just cant trust them;
Coz they say they've never been 'me' or same.


I realize it maybe a phase, a transition then;
coz I ain't not a boy, n certainly not yet a man.
The world hasn't actually changed, its the other way round;
And I thought those were hardships: now funny it may sound.


But its time I grow, I start to decide,
Have secrets, and learn to confide(?)
But never will I lose my optimism, I know-
Coz to think all this, thats what I tried not to show! :)