#dumpster diving

Seventeen

by Marlo

Now I make decisions that will shape me,

because I’m seventeen

and soon I’m free

to do what I want

as an adult-to-be.

What will be my job?

Will I be a slob?

What will I study?

What will I learn?

Will I earn

the right to turn

my life the way I want it—

or will I concern myself

with my parents’ yearns

and become an accountant?

Because that’s a realistic goal, right?

Not like wasting life as a whole

trying to be a poet

or an author.

They say creativity takes its toll;

so what if I enrol

in a workshop that I paid for

that teaches me nothing

I didn’t know before?

I can rhyme orange with smorange,

but I can’t put it in a sentence.

Instead I’m laying on my bathroom floor

as I pour

a bowl of cereal

because the store didn’t have anything else

I could afford.

So, yeah, sometimes I wish

I could just lay low

until I know

how to deal with the blows

life throws at me.

Wait it out

until I grow

enough to fit in the row

without standing on my toes.

Because life is for the big boys

while I still play with toys

and fall asleep

to white noise.

Cause in the end

I’m still a kid at heart,

but I need to play the part

of the adult,

get a head start

on my peers,

pretend life didn’t fall apart

when I got too big

to sit in the shopping cart.

Because I’m seventeen