Life at 13

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The plastic chairs in the outdated kitchen

Stuck to the back of our legs, sticky lemonade

Dripping from laughing mouths of young

Girls gathered for summer fun in

Carrie Elizabeth’s kitchen; we wondered

But didn’t know how our lives would end up,

 

How Sandy would get pregnant in three years,

Or that Ellen would be killed by her boyfriend in 10,

That I’d find myself drunk and lost a week later in a

Grocery store parking lot because there were no lines

To follow;

 

Nah, we were talking about kissing with tongue,

The radio blaring songs that revealed our generation

Was a mixed up mess of bands soon to be labeled

Classic rock and pop stars soon to pop over lyrics

As stupid as their haircuts, guessing the name of the guy

We’d marry, playing games like truth or dare to find

Out who knew the most about sex and drugs; we didn’t

Know shit about shit, but isn’t that what was cool about

Being a kid in a small town?

 

Life just around the corner, and

Had we known what was coming we’d been

Scared to death, maybe even afraid to

Leave those plastic chairs, but that’s why

It’s good not to know what’s coming;

Fearlessness isn’t always chosen, it’s given

By a merciful God who sees the falls

And knows the trials and allows the breaks

That threatens our tiny existence; gives us

The Unknown as a gift to keep going, so

We can giggle and laugh and talk about

Kissing with tongue at 13.

 

 

(photo credit: <a href=”http://www.flickr.com/photos/dmcordell/4552812224/”>dianecordell</a&gt; via <a href=”http://photopin.com”>photopin</a&gt; <a href=”http://creativecommons.org/licenses/by-nc-nd/2.0/”>cc</a&gt;)

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