Image source: Google Images
Dear little one,
These are the words of your grown up self,
From he who was you once,
To he who would someday be myself...
I know that this letter may never reach you,
I simply write in the wild belief that you may see,
That even though many of your dreams never came true,
I'm glad you never believed in "what will be, will be"...
Look, your teenage years may be much overrated,
As a man now, I can tell you that,
Those "learn this or learn that" words which you hated,
They've come around now to bite me back...
Little Sixteen, I do not claim to be any wiser,
I would be you again if I had the chance,
If only to do the same things a little better,
Now that experience has burnt my hands...
I could start talking of all that I've learned,
Of love, of money, of commitment, and aims,
But all of these things you too have felt,
Only in your case, they were little more than games...
So I'll simply say, all in all I'm proud little one,
Of you, of me, of what we've become,
If life was a game, we may not have won,
But it's safe to say we've certainly begun...
And we'll get there someday,
And he who we would become would show us the way...
With another letter in due time...
Yours in the nearest future,
Sladen Kay
Originally written and posted here on Steemit...
Reposted for 's Killerpoetry Contest #25