Just because I think fast,

And my words are always right

Doesn’t mean that you can forget.

Just because when I talk,

You don’t envision a round, smiling face,

Full of life, laughter, and joy,

Doesn’t mean that you can forget,

Forget that I am still a child.

It doesn’t matter that my words sound

Like someone much older said them,

And it really doesn’t matter that I’d rather read

Than watch television.

It doesn’t matter that I read the Economist

Rather than whatever it is others my age read.

I don’t think you should care that my music of choice

Is classical, as opposed to your hated rock.

I don’t think you should judge me

Because I’m smarter than you,

And I don’t think it’s right to be surprised

When I’m interested in politics.

But just because of this,

Doesn’t mean that I can’t cry.

It doesn’t mean that when the rain comes down,

I can’t laugh and play.

You all seem to think that I have to be like you.

You all seem to forget that I am still a child.

I’m forbidden from whining when

The day has gone on too long.

I can’t make comments on insignificant things

Without getting a strange glance.

Running through the sprinklers equals immaturity,

And the fact that somebody laughed at me today

Just means that I’m going to be told,

Grow up.

You’ve somehow forgotten that I’m allowed to be this way.

I’m not allowed to cry when things change.

I’m not allowed to laugh whenever I please.

I just want to grow up,

But you’re stopping me.

I know I think ahead,

But that’s just who I am.

You all seem to forget that I am still a child.

I want to play with my dolls,

I want to curl up with my stuffed animals.

Just because the games are a little stranger,

Doesn’t mean that they aren’t that,

Games.

I want to bury my face in my pillow.

I want to eat chocolate until I burst.

I don’t understand why

Singing in the rain isn’t allowed.

I don’t understand why

Running through fields of grass is inappropriate.

I want to understand why you want me to grow up,

But I want you to realize

That I’m still a child.

It doesn’t matter that I read,

Or that I think, or that I know.

I’m only a kid,

And I want to be me.