How old are you? 
They would ask, 
Their wrinkled eyes
meeting my young ones 

For a moment, 
I would be urged 
To answer 

I'm old enough, 
I whisper to myself,
To know that a broken heart 
Is better than 
An empty one

Old enough to know
That being lost and struggling
Is better than 
A died down flame 

Old enough to know 
That time is precious 
And it is not to be 
Wasted 

But as they look at me
I realize that I 
Am not old enough
To know everything 

So I smile and 
Bow down to them
Answering their question 
With sincerity 

I'm 18, I say, 18 
And counting