The paragraphs in our biography grow shorter
as the years of our lives grow longer.
surprising yourself became ludicrous
a long, long time ago.
the parents you call careless are most caring,
in the fact, that they are letting children live.
how dare you taint a young adult with cynicism?
artists dim to accountants
because it's 'really hard to make it'
'you can't live off dreams like that.'
do not expect a child,
to live life without adrenaline.
and upon achieving it, reprimand them.
These children that you condescend to,
that you deprive the goal of optimism,
that you limit to your standards,
that you tell to Be realistic
that you remind have not as many years
that you speak all revolution as rebellion
that you chain to expectations
that you provide precedent rather than reason
that you take indulgence away from
that you shove into conformity or label burnout
that you burn their ideas of self-discovery
that you allow no experience without punishment.
the same ones, that when they die, the way they were raised will not have mattered, but what they did in the process.
let them live.
for those children, will be taking care of you
until the last day that you're alive
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I'm your stereotypical teenager who hates society and authority. But this poem means a lot to me.
