Author's Note: I wrote this last spring for my English class and, in the spirit of procrastination, decided to post it right now.

"Why are you dressed all in black?" Dad asks.
"You better not turn into some
Goth-like type, alright?" His voice tips
Up, makes it a question, but I
Know he wants the answer to be
"Sir, no, sir! Only with your
Permission, sir!" He would receive
The preferred answer, if only
I were part of the army

Neither parent acknowledges
The outright divide between Goth
And asserting private
Predilections when concerning
Clothing. Standing unconscious
Consensus between the two
Intending to Deny the Youngest
Child Independence to the Last.
Make her stay ten years 'til her death bed.

I was just a little kid when you
First taught me the fine art of sharing.
"Skin color doesn't matter," you said,
And I looked from Mom black and Dad white,
Shrugged and said "Ok, I got it." How
Is it any different when their
Music is steel to my tin foil?

Now, however, you expect me
To respect you, with your
Hypocritical bending of those
Rules – "Share and share alike," and "Do
Unto others" claiming your current
Dislike 'cause that gives you the
Authority to okay my friends
Based not on the influence of their
Grin, but rather if they prefer
Abercrombie to Army Surplus

It's time for Mom and Dad to sit up
And pay attention, 'cause those two need
To realize, I'm quickly losing
Respect for the both of them and their
Immature, non-sharing way of life.
All I want is for them to learn just
How insane it is that I, the kid
In this relationship, am the one
Trying to teach them this
All-important life lesson:

Looks aren't important,
Its actions that matter.