Peter Pan

Honestly, adulthood, truly it sucks,

Most days I’m unhappy, I will confess.

Working my ass off, inadequate bucks,

An eternal struggle consumed by stress.

Leisure, are you kidding, time is lacking,

Most days I don’t want to get out of bed.

With all of these bills, no time for slacking,

Not sure how much more water I can tread.

Contemplating a homicidal spree,

So many on my “list” I’d love to choke.

You look at me oddly, but hey, that’s free,

I swear I’m going to die from a stroke.

But would I want to be a child again?

Nope, I say, as I grab another pen.