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Lost girl
Peter, take me with you.
You’re not too late; I’m still a kid
I still act like I always did, but
Now they want much more from me.
Why is it that everywhere
There is need for so much change?
When I know I liked myself best
Playing in puddles in a bright yellow dress.
The grass was greener
And chocolate cake tasted sweeter
So Peter, Peter please
Take me with you.
I’ve never played with fire,
But still I feel burnt.
All I know is how much I haven’t learnt.
The world is getting bigger and they make me feel so small -
I don’t know what I want at all.
Peter, I'm begging you, take me away.
The Lost Boys will love me and I’ll love them too;
I’ll tell stories and won’t act grown up.
I won’t, no matter what they say,
Because this feels like every other day.
So take me away, and never never
Let me grow up.
by
Emma Dalton
Read the story behind this poem
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