Needing to be Told

Eleven, or maybe twelve, the story begins, you some what don't fit
in, the other eyes see it and everything they say you deny, then it
kicks in.

Thirteen is another new start in anyone's lifetime, finding and
discovering from the inside, not from your enemy know it alls, but
you're one step ahead and you didn't really know.

Fourteen feels something like forty, feels like the best days are
through, old words bringing the world down, same old you, same old
punch bag.

Fifteen and no where near the end, every one makes the most of it,
hands over head but not really defeated, better days are somewhat near
by.

You hear old songs, little things that got you through it, there was
something floating in the back of your head, knowing that you weren't
alone, but just needed to be told.