I was born
I hate this part
Being someone new
Being torn
Seeing someone who died as you grew

Growing older
Is killing a child
Who laughed and smiled at anything
Growing colder
And less and less wild
And learning to sing

I was young
Then not so young
Scary either way
One more rung
Down that black ladder every day

One more floor
Down the elevator
To oblivion
What fun
But the singularly awful one
Is being born