Arts

What do they think I am;
A child who doesn’t know
The things a person should
Or shouldn’t do?
Am I so young that life Is but a mystery
That only “grownups” wise
Can e’er see through?
Why must they always nod
Their heads and smile and say,
“Just wait and some day love
Will come to you?”
Do any of them know
The things I think and feel?
Ah yes, they must;
For they were young once, too!