Growing Up.

As we grow older, we grow cynical and bitter.
One by one, we morph into what we hated and conspired against.
We gradually become ordinary and bland, until we disappear altogether.
You might say now that you'd never lose yourself.
You'll struggle and strive, you'll clutch at your individuality.
And then, you'll become to weak to fight the current.
You'll loosen your grip and watch your soul slip away from you,
Into a crowd of incipid, monotonous clones.
And then, after all the battling of the inevitable,
You'll vanish forever.