When?

When did adulthood start to mean being so serious?
When did play have to be structured?
When did running a car along the carpet or chasing a friend around the yard stop being fun?
Or when did these things stop being acceptable?
When did living mean meeting other people's expectations?
Are they really others expectations?
Or are we all just pretending?
When did life become about being perfect?
When did living, being alive, learning and growing stop being the goal?
When did the small offenses become so big that they can end relationships?
When did saying I'm sorry stop working?
When did trust go away?
When did loving with abandon stop?
Why can't we just meet someone and call them our friend?
When did the fear start?
When did jumping into life with both feet, headlong without caution stop?
When did things get so hard?
When did the complexities of life become the focus?

When did I start giving up?
When did I start giving in?
When did I decide that who I am is not acceptable?
When did I decide that the world's expectations were more important?
When did I buy into the idea that being adult meant giving up the play?
When did I buy into the idea that I needed to behave a certain way, even though it is not who I am?

When will I give up?
When will I lay on my carpet with a toy car? or chase a friend around the yard?
When will I decide that I am enough just the way I am?
Will I ever decide that being adult doesn't have to mean being serious all the time?
Will I ever decide that play is important?
When will I learn that the only person I need to please is me?