Twelve years old, charming, sweet, training bra, braces, dreams,
Has no cell phone just yet, but has plenty of friends,
Helps at home, draws cartoons, loves to read, chews her bangs.
Wants to grow up, get taller, be a beautiful teen,
Right now, high school seems like a faraway dream.
Twenty-two, college grad, hunting jobs, boyfriend, life,
Goes out drinking with friends every Friday at five,
Wonders who’ll be the one, trusts he will one day arrive.
Lives in a one-bedroom flat that costs a lot in rent,
Calls her mom every day, now they talk like two friends.
Forty-two with four kids, decent job, benefits,
House with yard and two cars, cat, and parrot that speaks,
Goes with husband to town on a date night each week.
Wants some rest from the spin of it all for a day,
Chores and homework with kids always get in the way.
Sixty-two, top career, is a grandmother now,
Loves her garden, long walks, playing mahjong, she smiles,
May retire in three, but may stay for a while.
Goes to dance twice a week, or whenever she can,
Wants to visit Rome, Paris, if she could find the time.
Eighty-two, reads in bed, quiet house, TV on,
Buzz and ding, reads a message from her eldest grandson,
Thinks of youth and the years that have passed by since then,
Would give anything now to be twelve once again.