When?
A/N: Hi, yall! This is a poem, free verse, Edmund's POV. It represents what I imagine he felt when Peter asked him "When are you going to grow up?"
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When am I going to grow up?
When am I going to reach that magic number that transforms me into a responsible person?
Not now. If only not ever.
But I know that soon, I shall hike a trail of mistakes
That those who've gone before blazed for me.
I swear I shall not take that trail.
Time drags me there, by the scruff of my neck.
I rebel; I kick and scream.
But eventually, my feet shall touch the regretful dirt of the trail,
And the grown-ups, those gone before,
Will smirk, "We told you so."
"When are you going to grow up?" you ask.
You mean well and you want to hurt me.
You sound so much like your annoying, righteous self,
And at the same time, your voice echoes the one man
Who ever understood me, and my resolution not to follow his trail.
The similarities between his voice and yours,
Between his eyes and yours,
Are beautiful, but at the same time, galling.
"SHUT UP! YOU THINK YOU'RE DAD, BUT YOU'RE NOT!" I scream.
It's the only thing I can think to say.
You're not father.
And I will never grow up...
At least not on your schedule.
Al least not hiking the trail of mistakes
You are blazing.
OoOoOoOoOoO
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