Sometimes We… Sometimes we hide away from the world, and from those we love. Sometimes we retreat into ourselves, rarely coming out, rarely showing people who we truly are. Sometimes we pretend to
be something we are not to please the people around us. Other times we change and don’t even realize it.
We are human, and we know that, but sometimes feel ashamed despite it. We are so like rain, falling from the sky then dissolving and rising, then falling again. We rely so heavily upon others, our family, friends, and lovers.
We have pimples, zits, dry skin and other such things. We are often asked to control ourselves but we find it near impossible. We try so hard, but sometimes keeping our tears in check and your fear at bay is something that we simply cannot do.
We are young, and often foolish, but we look at the world in an interesting and often arrogant fashion. We are very different, and our moods are less predictable then the weather.
Some of us are just starting to develop interest in the opposite sex or have developed that interest but are shy and awkward. Others have no interest at all, and still others are naturals. Sometimes we stammer, sometimes we choke words and we often stick our foots in our mouths. We aren’t always the best speakers, but that doesn’t mean that we don’t have anything to say.
We are messy, can have very bad attitudes, and leave dirty dishes in the sink. Some of us don’t care about anything and would rather be left alone, while others strive to make their friends and family proud, and yet people such as myself can be both ways.
We change constantly, both physically and mentally. We are easily irritated and easily pleased. We are in “That awkward stage” right between child and adult. We are not children, and hate being called so, but we also hate being called “Young man” or “Young woman”.
When we were little we wondered with childlike innocence at the world. Now we look at it with an overcomplicated point of view that tends to tick our parents off. We over analyze, overestimate and feel underpaid. We ask for money, for clothes, for books, games, movies, music, cars and privileges.
We want responsibility but we hate being responsibility. We start wanting to be more mature and we may start listening to awful music on purpose just to tick our parents off. When denied something small we fall into a deep and dark pit of despair. We throw temper tantrums when we discover a zit the day before a social event, and we scream “I am NOT overacting!” at the top of our lungs when we accused of such.
We slam doors, cupboards, lids and anything else slam-able. We have a something akin to Adolescent Alzheimer’s. We are sweet one moment and monsters the next. We forget everything important and remember only trivial facts.
We form peer groups and we battle in school, out of school, and while being home schooled. Our groups of friends our like onions, with the inner circle, middle circle, and outer circle. We argue with our friends, make up with them, make new ones and miss the old ones terribly.
We are trying to develop our own tastes, but to be quite frank it’s safer to stick to things that both we and our parents like, at least until we discover one of those societies of people with the singular goal to decide what’s “In” and what’s “Out”.
We love all those things bad for us, including chocolate, salty chips and non-diet soda.
We are all born for the stage, being excellent dramatists. We blow everything out of proportion, exclaiming that there were “Like, ten thousand people there, ya know?” We rejoice in being ourselves and we strive to be individual, invisible or cloned. We are funny, creative, ordinary, big, small, fat, skinny, black, white, gray, blue, pink, green, dreamers, lawyers, artists, musicians, writers, construction workers, secretaries, athletes, and most of all, we are teenagers.
(Copyright () 2007. All rights reserved)
© Copyright 2016 Amity Willows. All rights reserved.
Poem / Poetry
Poem / Poetry
Poem / Poetry
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