Real-ax-sensation

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I've been busy. Who hasn't though? Wherever I seem to look, everyone is always running around making plans. What ever happened to the childhood boredom? Was it overcome by the need to be entertained? "Do, make, create!" chants over and over in my head. 
After packing my carry-on bag for my trip to Europe (which only flys out on Friday), I finally said enough. I decided to do the unthinkable --relax. I went to a ball game and crushed sunflower seed shells with my sandals. I had dinner at a cheap burger joint and licked up the foil after I finished. I ended the night with a visit to the park with a playground. Hypnotized and mesmerized by my own toes gliding up and down, I finally questioned myself. Why do I feel so old when I'm only so young.
Am I too old to play on the playground?
Fly off the swing sets
Crawl through plastic caves
Ride up and down on a seesaw?

Am I too old to paint with my fingers?
To mix colors over and over,
To feel the canvas underneath,
To cover myself with color?

Am I too old to want the world?
Believe everything is possible,
Forget there are restrictions,
Dream endlessly?

Am I too old to dance to my own beat?
When do I have to settle down,
How can I stop myself,
Why should I configure though?

Am I too old to be diagnosed eccentric?
Laughing at everything,
Connecting through feelings,
Running from real problems?

Am I too old to be naïve?
Hoping everyone is genuine,
Pleasing everyone around,
Giving up pride to be loved?

Am I too old for damage to be fixed?
To be strong all the time,
To work always and ever,
To drop my guard for one second?

Am I too old to keep going?
Has addiction taken over,
What can I still do,
Who still needs me?

Am I too old to leave during adult swim?
Buying piles of ice-cream not textbooks,
Receiving pocket change from mom not Big Papa,
Playing tag with friends not the police?

Am I too old yet?

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