Grow Up!

Grow up!

To grow old and not grow up.
Has been an historic dilemma,
For many living in a society...
Competition based.
With a winning to do,
Regardless of wicked tactics to use.
And many consider entitlements given,
Are family heirlooms personally received.

A growing up to become,
Responsible and accountable adults?
Seems only an achievement,
For those considered meek and weak.
Docile cheek turners.
Without a thirst for blood.
Dripping from the mouths...
Of the ones who love,
Their meat to eat rare if cooked at all.

Children are told they should grow up!
But from where are they taught,
When examples are few and far between.
Hypocrites faithful to their hypocrisies.
And who do people like this expect,
To be treated as if...
The earning of respect is theirs to get.

And even though many,
May find this incredible to believe...
Adults who grow,
Knowing what it is...
To take responsibility for their actions.
Are seldom the ones,
Shown respect for this done.

And neither is it often,
Witnessed to observe.
People sitting in positions teaching,
The purpose and meaning of discipline.
When a society is allowed,
To be overwhelmingly overrun...
By children who appear as if adults.
But have minds confined to delude,
What it is to fiction...
Themselves to be adults done to imitate.
Leaving the results,
For someone else to clean up the mess.
Childish minds often accuse,
On others to blame.
To claim what they have created,
Had not been their intention to do!
Like setting a fire.
Not to intend a burning down,
An entire apartment complex!

'Then...
What was it that you wanted?
Attention to get it?!
You got it now what?
A controlling to have power over others?
To prove what?
A squeaky wheel gets the oil?
What about the people,
Who no longer live to make ends meet.
Do you even care?'

'As long as I sit in the driver's seat.
Who cares how I got to do it?
I know what I did to do.
To be followed and obeyed.
But I must admit,
Something in me loved every bit of it!'

'Until what?
You ruin and destroy,
Everything around you?
Including your own way of life,
With a taking for granted...
Your self anointed ignorance.'

'Sticks and stones may break my bones.
But names I am called,
Will never hurt me.
So there!'

'You're right.
Isolation and confinement,
May do the trick.
With lots of time deserving it.'

'You are not my father!'

'Oh.
I have been called a 'mother',
On many occasions.
And you know what?'

'Humor me.
What?'

'Apparently,
You are not familiar with parenting.'

'And...
What is that suppose to mean?
Apparently!'

'I am not a prophet.
But I am willing to bet,
I won't be the only 'mother' you meet.
To eventually teach you,
The meaning of respect to give it.
Up in the most unlikely,
Yet rumored free to touch...
Once tight places!'

'Whatever!'

'I am not a prophet.
But I am willing to bet,
You will be made to call someone 'daddy!'
And guess what?'

'What?'

'Don't drop the soap.
Or choke on your tongue.'
Forget that!
Time to come,
Will leave you reminded...
Without time to sit,
Demanding and not to request...
Daily upclose personal visits.'