The Weight of Growing Up!

Dylan Thomas’s Fern Hill is more than just a poem, it’s a mirror to my own lost days of childhood. When I read those lines, "Time held me green and dying / Though I sang in my chains like the sea," it hit me hard. I too was once young and easy under the shade of simplicity, living days without expectations, without pressure only play, laughter, and curiosity filled my world.

Back then, waking up didn’t feel like a task. Life was not about proving something. It was about being simply being. Just like Thomas roamed the green fields of Fern Hill, I too wandered through the innocent lanes of my early life, where everything felt eternal. I never knew time was quietly pushing me forward.

Now, as an adult, every single day feels like a heavy burden. People around me expect so much to be perfect, responsible, successful, understanding. But the truth is, I can’t fulfill everyone’s hopes. I carry a smile, but my heart often feels tired. The freedom I once had is now just a memory I revisit in silence.

When will I live for me? This question repeats in my mind. Amid all the commitments, responsibilities, and roles I play, I feel lost not in the world, but within myself.

Fern Hill reminds me that we all live in borrowed time. Youth was a loan I didn't know I was spending. Now, I just wish for a day where I can be again what I once was not for anyone, but for myself.

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