Jaded Fables

When
does one put away
the dreams of youth
and replace them with
the expectations
of reality?

At which point
does one decide
which memories aren't worth
the pain of keeping
and which ones are too painful
to part with?

I've been living
in two different worlds; the old, and the new.
Which one holds the real me?
And how can I ever know?


And when
does it become clear
that giving up
isn't the same
as letting go?