Tastes of my eighteenth birthday

I woke up one morning the age of 18,
Cookies await for breakfast and a slab of a thing,
A crunch of the cookie so pale and so thin,
Made arose a hidden feeling like i was stung with a pin,
I am starting to see the world with a different origin,
The dimensions are constricting to the size of fish fin,
While my swelling heart swallows it like a burning hot kiln,
Fading ideas of the event has broke-in,
Now i cant remember the believe i put-in,
I drank a sweet milk to the bottom of it's tin,
The passion returns with the feeling striking,
Now i am erect like a man with no sin,
I want to mock the world as it used to be a bin,
I cannot explain how much the world is flatening,
And how much i walk across without the slightest fighting,
Fading ideas of the event is deepning,
Now i want to take the slab of that thing,
I took it and a feeling came to me exploding,
What have i done that i am worth of no sin,
What is my heart that is a fire in a kiln,
The taste of this one is not like not like the first two that burn,
It tells me the age of youth will soon come and gone.
Look at what my taste bud has done,
It reminded me that God has no son,
HE has the dominion over all that is sown,
So praise Him Lord of the stars and the sun.