Too Old to Cry

At five I dreamed of ten,
PG movies, better toys
tall enough to see over counters

At twelve I dreamed of seventeen
cars parties and women
wisdom equal to my decisions

At twenty I dream of thirty
success and a child of my own
a family and a home to die for

But my dreams suffer
from false advertising.
I am still the same child
crying as science-set acid
burns through expectation;
still the teen crying
for a first kiss wasted;

I am still a young man
a job and a lost love
just brave enough to keep dreaming
and never too old for tears.