Do you even know me?

The more time passes, the more people grow
And things you once knew, or thought you knew
can pass away.

So to take the flaws of my youth,
and cast them up to me with ridicule
is chldish to say the least
and cruel to say the most.

For once I saw with childish eyes,
and was impressed by star quality.
But have since realised that what is outwardly real
doesn't run deep, no, not really.

If not, in the naivete of my young exuberance,
why would I have chosen you?

But I guess I ought to thank you
for this cynical streak,
that makes me question the outward celebrity
and care more about the spirit within.

More than the strife is the pain
of the crushing loneliness
of existing with someone who does not
know you, and hence know how you've grown.


"If" is a tragic word.