When I was one,

I practically knew none.

When I was two,

I knew quite a few.

When I turned three,

I was thinking of climbing a tree.

Four I thought was cool,

But what came in between was school.

Five was exciting,

When I learned social mixing.

Six came later,

And I turned into an amateur.

Seven was not exactly heaven,

But it took me seven years to learn.

And then came eight,

Time to get reprimanded to get my acts straight.

For nine and ten playing games was not a choice,

For I was told to prepare for my future life.

Eleven opened the doors for twelve and thirteen,

The time to realize the beauty of teens.

The upsurge of hormones aplenty,

And I found myself at the pearly gates of twenty.

Twenty-one to twenty-five,

Gave me a full chance for my prefrontal cortex to thrive.

The last five years of the third decade,

Were as confused as I was in my first grade.

Got coupled in between and bore a son,

So that he could start his life from One.

I was thirty, he was one,

But life was full of fun.

Life need not be a poem to have alliteration,

 Just require having a daughter or son.

They hold a mirror for you,

So that you restart your life from one!