Too young to leave,
But too old to pretend,
I feel awkwardly stuck.

Caged by black walls of jail,
Just waiting to be released,
I do my time silently,
But not happily.

I must do as I'm told,
Think as I'm assigned,
For unplanned future.

Hard to be heard,
And harder to be understood,
I can only wait patiently,
For upcoming silence.

But there is hope too,
Past the thick rut of dullness,
Is my chance.

It is my golden years,
Of youth and discovery,
Knowledge accompanied by mistake,
Of the teenager generation.