Between infancy and adulthood

I was only one of the messengers,
(whom always get shot)
of all that I have,
that you so easily forgot.

A painkiller will not last that long.
But nor does the pain,
I realized when I had chosen,
in lonely lane in dripping disdain.

It isn't over and it isn't done.
At least if you count -me- out,
because some things die later,
in the world of the identical crowd.

Pass on the dirt everyone,
or else it will just lay there.
Go ahead no one cares,
at least when you're not aware.

I don't need you I'm fine.
I can disappear on my own.
It just takes some time,
until I'm fully grown.