Not A Typical Teenager, But A Seventeen Year Old

To become what I am not
Is a difficult job indeed
But this is what is
The ‘Society’s’ need.

I don’t like to date
I don’t like to travel in a car
My fellow beings snort and say
“Grapes are surely sour”

I don’t like to wear short skirts
I don’t like to show skin
My fellow beings exclaim
But this is what is ‘in’.

What I describe as skeletal
They describe as thin
What they describe as a party
I describe as din.

I don’t like what they do
Yet I do them anyway
I think they are shallow
Yet I listen to all they say

When they look at the sky
To admire a flower on a tree
I agree with them blindly
For right then I am pleading to be free

Man is born free
But is everywhere in chains
That is why I do things
That, in my heart pains.

But one day when I can
I will fight with all my might
And give these in people
A new insight.

I will shout so loud
That it will reach farther and farther
That Society is the son of man
Not the father.