Any Volunteers

Anger infuriates me

For I should know better

Then argue and quarrel

And bend every letter

“You are not an adult

You are a child”

But I can think, say and do

Why must all my actions be wild

The time has come of solitude

Where I no longer cling to my mother

And feed from her knowledge

For now I only suffer

My maturity surpasses my body

yet my actions portray me as others see

A child of insecurity and ignorance

Not the adult I now long to be

Confusing enough in these times of turmoil

Watching days, weeks and months roll by

Yet in my mother’s eyes I shall always be

A little baby who must always cry

“ Treat me as who I am

Not who you want me to be”

I scream at the top of my lungs

And yet she ignores me

“ Maturity comes with knowledge

And knowledge with age”

But for knowledge to be bestowed upon me

I need to grow, not be stuffed in a cage

Locked within an image

My mind the key

And up till now my mother

Held this from me

Now my mind seeps through my prison

And explores the outside

Thoughts, ideas, feelings and opinion

On such a rich word which leaves nothing to hide

My adult body just out of reach

But the mind of which I keep

If only to rot in the absent vessel

My childish corpse from which I must seep

Time is my enemy

Holding hands with vision and sight

To play tricks on my mind

And others as I complete day and slip into night

Who would want to be me?

Who would want to be a teenager?

The End

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