I Won't Grow Up

You know how when you get older
You’re supposed to be grown-up?
You’re not supposed to still want to play Lego
Or drink out of a Mister Men cup.

You’re supposed to build a career
Not get stuck in a job that you hate
Where the only perks are lunchtimes
And the occasional Friday cake

You’re supposed to buy some property
Budget. Save. Invest.
Not waste your money on sweets and comics
Or hide treasures in a chest

You’re supposed to lose your silly nicknames
Live healthily and have a good diet
Not sit around all day imagining
That you’re a spaceman, a cowboy, a pirate

See I’m edging closer to 30
Which still seems ancient to me
Should 30-year-olds have bags of cola cubes?
Should 30-year-olds watch cartoons on TV?

Some days (too late) I realise
That my red pumps and stripes and jeans
Are exactly what a toddler next to me’s wearing
And I’m not quite sure what this means

Am I trying to be a Peter Pan
A Michael Jackson – let’s face it, a freak?
I am avoiding responsibility
Striving to keep my ‘wacky’ streak?

Or is it just the fact
That lots of these things are fun
And even when we’re 100
Somtimes we still want our mum

There’s still a part of us which wants to play
And be read to, and lie in the sun
Eat sweets til our teeth are aching
And run. And run. And run.