Teenage

On the crossroad of innocence and maturity,
I'll call it Bittersweet.
Blurred like a distant memory,
As fragrant as a rosebud.

Years of supreme sun,
We never have enough.
But under our seemingly boundless sky,
Strangely,we are tied.

We are so delicate.
Our spirits can be easily broken.
Yet experience has corrected us
And years has soothed our wounds.

I can see the petals dropping now,
One by one.
And soon it will be gone
Forever.