Ramblings of a 17 Year Old

Today I turned 17. I don’t feel 17.

I don’t feel any different than I did yesterday.

We live 364 days of the year being the same age, when in reality you aren’t.

I’m 17 years old and tomorrow I will be 17 years old

and one day.

We just forget the number of days after

because it is easier to say. I lived 364 days being 16

and I am now 17.

I have prepared every single one of those days

knowing I will be this age

and in another 364 days I will be 18.

I guess with every year I get older I am

supposed to feel more like an adult or more mature,

which I guess I am more mature than I was at age 12,

but it hasn’t hit me as hard as it would be to run into a clear glass door.

I guess what I’m trying to say is,

today is my birthday and I am 17

and I don’t feel any different.


When I woke up this morning my first thought

was that I’m technically still 16 for another two and a half hours.

I will officially turn 17 at 8:30 and never be 16 again.


Why is it that things aren’t appreciated until they are lost?

I had a good year for being 16.

I gained my license, I played travel softball,

I won a Young Authors Award, I applied for a government job,

I was on debate and helped coach first base for JV softball,

and I lived and I cried and I loved.

I looked forward to being 17 just as I did when I was turning 16 and 15.

I wonder when it is that I will regret my birthday like most people.

Or will I not? Will I look at it as an accomplishment?

Most kids my age say anyone over the age of 40 is old.

I say it is an accomplishment.

They have lived over 40 or 50 or 60 or 70+ years

without dying and have done extraordinary things

with ordinary people or ordinary things with extraordinary people.

That is unknown.

But I know one thing for sure, I want to love more, cry more, and live more.

I want to go to college and have fun

and date guys and have sex and read books that rock my values

and breathe slowly and just stop at a café, sit down at their outside table,

and watch people walk by and be happy or upset or just be them.

That is where people are most like themselves. When they think no one is watching.


Life is a complicated topic, yet some people make it seem simple. 


Additional Resources

Get AI Feedback on your poem

Interested in feedback on your poem? Try our AI Feedback tool.


If You Need Support

If you ever need help or support, we trust CrisisTextline.org for people dealing with depression. Text HOME to 741741