I'm a grown-up now.

If I am only eighteen, and have many years left to live,
How many opportunities is fate going to give?
They come thick and fast at a tender fourteen,
When we make important decisions, but have not yet seen.

Now here I am, four years on and aged 'adult',
Waiting for my all important future depending result.
I'm a 'grown-up' now, or so I'm told,
But in reality, inside, I feel twelve years old.

I've to move out, and I have to get loans,
Meet new people, and go it totally alone.
I've never even had to pay a bill before,
Never been alone for those three weeks more.

For support, don't turn to college, there's nothing there,
As for university and banks, they're likely to scare.
So in all of this confusion, to whom do I turn?
It seems that all I need are answers, and oh how I yearn.

But I'm a 'grown-up' now, or so I'm told,
But in all honesty, inside I feel twelve years old.
Let me go back to that blissful time when,
I needed no answers, oh how things were simple then.

Oh please let me not worry or despair,
All I needed to know was how to plait my hair.
But I'm a 'grown-up' now, or so I'm told,
Inside, actually, I think I might feel ten years old...