In my mind, I’m 17 under parental control.

I go to high school and goof with my friends.

Every dollar I make goes to gas and Dairy Queen,

and keeping up with the new trends.

Now I’m 21, and Mom is five hours away. 

I look for a big girl job but I’m not a grown-up.

I dreamed of being older and now it’s here.

I look around and we are all grown up.

Who let me start paying rent and buying my own shampoo?

Old enough to get married and drink,

Some are even having babies.

Maybe I’m still too young, I think.

When did we become our idols’ age, and we became the mentors.

I’ve stopped hating my parents and myself.

I see the teenage angst in others,

But no longer in myself.

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