I thought that in this life, there were clean breaks;
That as a man I’d make no more mistakes;
I’d understand, have things under control;
The path I walk would take no more in toll.
The knife showed me I did not know the ropes.
It sank, along with all those childish hopes,
Into a finger soft, now cold and numb,
That left me hollering, then left me dumb.
That in oneself a person has no doubt
Is proof the inner child’s sneaking out;
An adult screws up over and over again
And learns; that separates the boys from men.
I found that lesson in the panic’s grip,
The frantic phone call, and the ER trip:
There’s no “too young” to face a consequence,
Nor “old enough” to lack for ignorance.