Baby

and you’re frightened to cross the road, got to cry to mummy to take your hand and ease that load,
you’re
then a teenager with the rage upon you and the girls who… …but the moral compass point the way

and middle age makes its mark, you stay indoors and don’t go out after dark
and
just as suddenly you’re a fuddy-duddy, doddering, plod, plod and getting thin,
and you’re frightened to cross the road.

© 2019, John Smallshaw.