Maturity and Wit's End

There is an irony in these words for sure,

When I am a teenager who is known to be mature.

I have not stated that I am an adult and can do whatever I want like others,

And yet I am the one who agrees that they should listen to their teachers and their mothers.

 

I rooted for Tom while they rooted for Jerry.

They complain about the orders and the work, but I thought the privilege was simply merry!

They all want to be a rebel,

Yet wouldn’t that be me when I’m the only one out of trouble?

 

some want to smoke and drink booze.

I like my lungs and brain to be stable, so I refuse.

some look to cope with life through drugs,

I say that just causes more problems, so I cope with happiness and hugs.

 

Sometimes they’re rude and call me a prude.

While I don’t think name-calling is fair, in that case I don’t really care.

Now I do my duties and show respect,

And some shove off their responsibilities and expect a positive effect!

 

Why would you not use

what your parents taught you

To prevent you from the same mistakes they did

 When they were a kid?

 

But instead of some enlightenment or behavioral evolution,

some still go out of their way to cause trouble and call it a revolution!

Now I’m not perfect and may not have the right to judge,

But I know I’m going in the right direction, so let these lessons give you a nudge.

 

This mindset can seem lonesome

at times in a hormonal sea of mutiny,

But I cannot be the only one

Who doesn’t see the point of this insurgency.

 

 

 

This poem is about: 
Me

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