Time for a new game

I've played the game for 20 years
since the time that I began to question
What do I want to be? but

Being
is not a what
question.

What
do you want
to be
when you grow up

To ask
we of youth
stops us dead in our tracks
what
want
be
grow.

A sandwich
is a what.

Endless summer days
is a want.

Infinite love
is a thing to be.

My soul
is a grow-ing.

I played the game for 20 years
and sometimes it was fun
and sometimes it filled me with pride
     the emotion that comes about when we break ourselves against someone else
     and we realize the damage isn't all that bad
     the emotion meant for defining ourselves by the measure of others
     the emotion with a hard candy shell, and a vaporous middle
and sometimes I had fun
and sometimes I made new friends
     out of partners in enterprise
and sometimes I made those green things
     the invisible things that sometimes accumulate in the invisible container
and most times I spent those invisible things
     on toothpaste
     on pizza
     on things, things, things
and sometimes it worked the other way
     I spent myself
My invisible self
     accumulated in the invisible container
And each day I nervously checked the balance
afraid to find it less
than the figure I had brought to mind


A poetry prompt from NaPoWriMo