Break me free from these chains.

I’m contained, held back, striving to escape.

The protective arms around my neck,

Never wanting to let me go,

And not realizing they are going to

Have to one day, for I am older now,

Old enough to think on my own,

Old enough to get along without their

Guiding words.

They know it, too, deep down inside, but

Their warped meaning of adulthood has

Confused me for so long.

For I am old enough to be loved, but

Not old enough to love myself, for I am

Old enough to drive, yet I am not

Old enough to get a car.

For I am old enough to get a job,

But not old enough to get an apartment.

They say these are the best years of your life.

Well, they’re wrong.