A letter for my granddaughter,
in sixty years to come.
maybe then you’ll be my age now,
and your world will have only just begun.
Well I guess mine will be ending then,
and that thought fills me with dread.
Growing up and getting old,
isn’t as exciting as they said.
So, if indeed, you’re anything like me,
and have hundreds of hopes and dreams.
Then I hope I can look back say to myself,
I’m glad she is dreaming of what I’ve achieved.
So if your scared, and ever feeling alone,
don’t worry because right now I am too,
Sitting here, still in my teens.
Writing sixty years to the future; sixty years to you.
If you ever read this letter,
and I don’t know if you will,
because I don’t know where my life will take me.
What I’ll do, what I’ll be, what life I will fulfill.
You should know that I am dreaming,
Of all I want to do and be,
and I hope that you can view me now,
and say, yeah, she was just like me.