How much is a person supposed to know at seventeen?
I might not know enough, because I've asked so many questions like this,
And have never found the answers
That everyone else my age surely seems to know.
What is the secret
that everyone else was born knowing,
The secret that determines where most belong,
And leaves a select few uncategorized,
Wondering if everything about themself is flawed?
How much is a person supposed to know at seventeen?
I might know too much, because I've lived seventeen different lives,
Each one an attempt to answer
These questions that I can't stop asking.
From that, I've learned empathy, rather than resentment,
Not to step in the street before I've looked in all directions,
And how to stitch myself together when my bones are broken anyways.
I know the secret; it's that it's nonexistent.
It can't be made up in words, but it makes up this system.
Who told the secret? I couldn't tell you, 't wasn't to my ear
And I've experienced enough rebuke to know not to interfere.
How much is a person supposed to know at seventeen
When expected to memorize functions of trigonometry,
All the plot lines in A Tale of Two Cities,
And all the standard lines of who everyone else wants you to be?
How much is a person supposed to know at seventeen
When expected to study all subjects
And pass all tests at once,
Except the greatest test is not written
And it's graded by your peers?
My grades are just decent;
that determines if I'm "smart",
But what I do know is how teachers feel
When they speak and no one listens,
and that perhaps, high school is just as difficult for them
as it is for students.
How much is a person supposed to know at seventeen
When all your elders say you know nothing,
because you're "too young to understand"
As you prove to them you know everything
And empathize every one of their own reprimands,
Because perhaps, you're the only one old enough to understand.
I make thoughtless mistakes on purpose
in the hopes that it makes me feel younger,
shake my head at the aftermath of those mistakes,
and do everything I can to present as the most mature.
And perhaps, from that I've learnt enough
To answer every question that could ever be conceived,
except for the most important one:
How much is a person supposed to know at seventeen?
May 16
May 16, 2026 at 4:05 PM UTC
How much is a person supposed to know at seventeen?
I might not know enough, because I've asked so many questions like this,
And have never found the answers
That everyone else my age surely seems to know.
What is the secret
that everyone else was born knowing,
The secret that determines where most belong,
And leaves a select few uncategorized,
Wondering if everything about themself is flawed?
How much is a person supposed to know at seventeen?
I might know too much, because I've lived seventeen different lives,
Each one an attempt to answer
These questions that I can't stop asking.
From that, I've learned empathy, rather than resentment,
Not to step in the street before I've looked in all directions,
And how to stitch myself together when my bones are broken anyways.
I know the secret; it's that it's nonexistent.
It can't be made up in words, but it makes up this system.
Who told the secret? I couldn't tell you, 't wasn't to my ear
And I've experienced enough rebuke to know not to interfere.
How much is a person supposed to know at seventeen
When expected to memorize functions of trigonometry,
All the plot lines in A Tale of Two Cities,
And all the standard lines of who everyone else wants you to be?
How much is a person supposed to know at seventeen
When expected to study all subjects
And pass all tests at once,
Except the greatest test is not written
And it's graded by your peers?
My grades are just decent;
that determines if I'm "smart",
But what I do know is how teachers feel
When they speak and no one listens,
and that perhaps, high school is just as difficult for them
as it is for students.
How much is a person supposed to know at seventeen
When all your elders say you know nothing,
because you're "too young to understand"
As you prove to them you know everything
And empathize every one of their own reprimands,
Because perhaps, you're the only one old enough to understand.
I make thoughtless mistakes on purpose
in the hopes that it makes me feel younger,
shake my head at the aftermath of those mistakes,
and do everything I can to present as the most mature.
And perhaps, from that I've learnt enough
To answer every question that could ever be conceived,
except for the most important one:
How much is a person supposed to know at seventeen?
Request permission to use this poem