From Your Teenage Daughtermature
So Mr. High-and-Mighty,
Mr. Super-Big-Shot,
Mr. Talk-In-The-Third-Person;
Please, Chuck Norris, you’re not.
An eye-roll is tempting,
But I’ll show self-restraint,
Regardless of inner fury
Screaming "war-paint!"
You waltz right in here,
In the middle of my show,
To preach about my social life?
Oh, dude, please, NO!
You come here to lecture
About conforming and esteem?
To be happy with who I am
No matter how geeky I seem?
Thanks ever so much
For the confidence boost;
It’s a shame your cheer-leading
Isn’t everywhere induced.
Your princely generosity
Extends without trouble,
So instead of thirty minutes
You orate for double.
You declare I need a passion;
Didn’t know it was so simple,
Like picking up some milk
Or popping a pimple.
And speaking of blemishes
Let’s talk about my skin--
If I only ate healthier
It’d be porcelain.
This, says the man,
Who even as he speaks,
Holds a box of chocolates
On hand for weeks.
Since when did you start
To diagnose teen troubles
That you clearly ripped off from
Internet parenting articles?
Ludicrous, arrogant, vain,
Forever goes the list
You’re a stressful, micromanaging
Reason for a therapist!
Unbelievab--
Do you know how ridiculous you sound?!
“Happiness is most important”
Yes, the Confucius quotes abound!
And no pointless speech is complete without
Inconsistencies!
For what fun is talking
If lacking in absurdities?
“Grades are not the world,
But to be as good as your friends
You need to study hard
Embrace the ivy league ends.”
By the way, a quick note,
You used “good” instead of “well.”
Don’t lecture about academics
When your grammar use is hell.
Oh look, you’re excited,
‘Cause you have an example!
So your notions are so flawless
And your wisdom very ample!
“Score high on tests
Like that one girl, the blond
And the other, the tall one
Who of calories, is fond.”
I’d appreciate, if you could,
After three whole years,
Possibly summon up the effort
To know names of close peers.
“You have to pay your dues.”
Who says that anymore?
Cheesy axioms, I declare,
Are lame and I abhor.
Every day you complain
About work overload
“Waiting for clients to call”
In front of the TV, bestowed.
You, sir, are a joy killer;
The very definition.
I offer congratulations,
But alas,
No medal to give in addition.
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THE GOODS
You're currently reading the poem
From Your Teenage Daughter, which
was posted on Jan 22, 2012 by
GreenTea95.
This is a solo poem.
About this poem
"Dad comes in to lecture (once again) and you can imagine what his daughter has t..."
This poem is filed under:
Humour / Comic Verse, Simple Rhyme, Teen / Young Adult
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