At seventeen I am almost grown.
Almost old enough to own a home of my own.
Yet, i remain viewed as young, naive.
Told I am too young to know what i believe.
At seventeen the world drowns me in a sea of questions it doesn't want the answers to.
At seventeen everyone thinks they know whats best for me,
"....grow up, be a part of your society."
Don't worry about happiness that's a selfish priority.
"...grow up."
But at seventeen its hard to differentiate between hopes and reality.
It's sad you can do anything you believe,
but i fear it's a lie, we've all been teased.
The proof?
On the streets.
An endless stream of people who've had their dreams seized.
I dread the thought of this stream consuming me.
Me?
Me?
At seventeen I don't know if I am me.
Or just everything that's ever been crammed down my throat into a part of my brain I cant pronounce.
At seventeen I've fallen down a rabbit hole.
The queen of hearts pounding me with every cliche ideal every adult has told me to believe.
The white rabbit screaming to me the time.
17..18..19
I just want to leave.
I am only seventeen.
But if not this rabbit hole where?
Just a new nightmare?
Filled with symbolism I should get.
Things I should know.
Seventeen is plenty of time to grow...
grow up.
But I am only seventeen.
I am only seventeen.
Am only seventeen.
Only seventeen.
Seventeen.
I am seventeen.
At seventeen the world says I am almost grown.
At seventeen I am scared to have a home of my own.
At seventeen I question everything I ever knew.
But remain unchanged.
Remain floating through life without a clue.

Seventeen men standing on a shaft

Of grey sunlight

Seventeen men waiting for a draft

Of black and white



Seventeen men all proud and blind

For the victory

Seventeen men all loony in their mind

Oh contradictory



Seventeen men fervent on a march

To their slow doom

Seventeen men die, drop, and parch

Not enough room



Seventeen men are abandoned prostrate

On the battlefield

Seventeen men become slaves to their state

All their hearts are sealed



Seventeen men praised above the ground

Lie breathlessly beneath

Seventeen men glorified by the pound

Their graves, their souls bequeath



Seventeen men were in love with an idea and went to war

Seventeen men died for a border and fought for a *****

We rushed on glorious wings
that fed bombs into Baghdad soil
with feverous lust for a hollow dream.
Now nine long years later,
seventeen bodies lie on earth where oil
engenders a lust that’s even greater.

Seventeen skeletons innocent;
Seventeen bloodlines’ descent.
Karzai’s blank solace and Kandahar’s dead
seventeen lay heavier on the heart than lead.

Three tours were far too many,
the fourth far more than he could take.
A sergeant who’d have given any-
thing for his wife and kids’ sake.
Seeing a good friend’s severe injury –
the last blow Sanity could handle.
Morality goes out – light from a candle
swaddled in smoke’s endless perjury.

Seventeen seconds of forethought
may perhaps have faltered his shot;
Seventeen centuries of ponder
and still the heart may have not grown fonder.
Seventeen lovers left alone,
or loves that’ll never come to pass,
seventeen graves of heavy bones
mark where a madman’s mind broke at last.

Seventeen skeletons innocent;
Seventeen bloodlines’ descent.
Karzai’s blank solace and Kandahar’s dead
seventeen lay heavier on the heart than lead.

This is Seventeen.
Seventeen is loosely in the beginning of my life. Seventeen is realizing you’ve got a whole lot of life left in front of you. It is accepting that life is a page of writing that has been started, but is nowhere near finished, that a few doors have closed, but many more are still open, that some choices are irrevocable, but some may be changed yet, that there are still many what ifs that need to be figured out.
Seventeen is being caught in the limbo of being seen as an incompetent child and being forced to make adult decisions.
Seventeen is having the freedom to drive anywhere, but having a curfew to stay within.
Seventeen is losing many of the friends you used to have, but keeping the ones who are the closest to you, the ones who understand you the best, the ones you hope to have forever.
Seventeen is being able to stay up late, eating pizza in the park, and play on a playscape trying to be kids for just a little longer.
Seventeen is year long concert series and jamming out to your favorite bands covered in sweat.
Seventeen is dying your hair bright colors, much to your mother’s disparagement, and then changing it a week later.
Seventeen is being forced to choose what you want to do with the rest of your life when your favorite food changes on a daily basis and you have no idea how to function without your mom nagging you.
Seventeen is being excited, scared, sad, angry, hopeful, happy, jealous all at once and trying to deal with it, while still completing your homework on time.

I turned seventeen today.
It's nothing special.
But I turned seventeen today,
And that's something.

There's a difference between
Seventeen and 17.
They have the same value,
But have a different meaning.

Seventeen is
Your teen years
Coming to an end
But just starting all the same

Seventeen is
Your last year as a child;
The ability to be free
With little responsibility

Seventeen is
Maturity
Adolescents
Personality

But 17 is
Just a number.
It has no real significance.
It's not special.

17 is
Just an age
That's not as important
As 18 and 21.

17 is
Small
Irrelevant
Numerical.

But I turned seventeen today
I turned 17 today
Mature.
Irrelevant.

I'm all sad poems and broken songs
It figures it's my birthday
I'm panic attacks and sleepless nights
And all the words I won't say.

Things should be normal, shouldn't they?
Things should be okay; it's my birthday.

Seventeen isn't going the way it should
Can I have another try?
Seventeen isn't right, right now
Somebody hit rewind.

Things should be fine today
Things should be right; it's my birthday.

Nothing revolves around my birth
I know that, I swear I do
But all I asked was to be happy
When the day was through.

Things aren't right, are they?
Even though it's my birthday.

Seventeen began with listless apathy
Seventeen began with broken promises
Seventeen began with fake smiles and laughs
Seventeen began with hurt friends.

Seventeen may go away
I don't want it here.
Seventeen isn't what I like
I'll try again next year.

Until then I'll be wondering
How seventeen began so wrong
It's my birthday, today
I'm all sad poems and broken songs.

By Janis Ian

I learned the truth at seventeen
That love was meant for beauty queens
And high school girls with clear skinned smiles
Who married young and then retired
The valentines I never knew
The Friday night charades of youth
Were spent on one more beautiful
At seventeen I learned the truth...

And those of us with ravaged faces
Lacking in the social graces
Desperately remained at home
Inventing lovers on the phone
Who called to say "come dance with me"
And murmured vague obscenities
It isn't all it seems at seventeen...

A brown eyed girl in hand me downs
Whose name I never could pronounce
Said: "Pity please the ones who serve
They only get what they deserve"
The rich relationed hometown queen
Marries into what she needs
With a guarantee of company
And haven for the elderly...

So remember those who win the game
Lose the love they sought to gain
In debitures of quality and dubious integrity
Their small-town eyes will gape at you
In dull surprise when payment due
Exceeds accounts received at seventeen...

To those of us who knew the pain
Of valentines that never came
And those whose names were never called
When choosing sides for basketball
It was long ago and far away
the world was younger than today
when dreams were all they gave for free
to ugly duckling girls like me...

We all play the game, and when we dare
We cheat ourselves at solitaire
Inventing lovers on the phone
Repenting other lives unknown
That call and say: "Come on, dance with me"
And murmur vague obscenities
At ugly girls like me, at seventeen...

I love you,
Goodnight
Every night, since forever ago
Rhythm
Routine
Family, friends
Taken for granted, yet
True.

Fourteen years old
I love you,
Called out,
A promise of returned affection
Timid, unsure
A response to
Insecurities.
Not true.

I love you,
Goodnight
Every night, since forever ago
Rhythm
Routine
Family, friends
Taken for granted, yet
True.

Fifteen years old
Distrustful
Cynical
Confused
Emotions flapping about like lost geese
Nothing like all the before’s
So this is what must be
True.

I love you,
Goodnight
Every night, since forever ago
Rhythm
Routine
Family, friends
Taken for granted, yet
True.

Sixteen years old,
That feeling
Tumultuous but calming
Broken yet whole
Lost but found
Your deep, beautiful eyes
Painful beyond belief, yet the best thing I’ve ever felt
Simply, it's true
I love you.

I love you,
Goodnight
Every night, since forever ago
Rhythm
Routine
Family, friends
Taken for granted, yet
True.

Seventeen years old,
It’s true
What is?
That
You’re my truth
And
I love you.

I love you,
Goodnight
Every night, since forever ago
Rhythm
Routine
Family, friends
Taken for granted yet
True.

Seventeen years old,
I love you
But…
I ****** up
I love you
But…
I kissed someone else
We never set boundaries
But….
I know I did wrong
I love you
But…
I truly can’t be with you right now.

I love you,
Goodnight
Every night, since forever ago
Rhythm
Routine
Family, friends
Taken for granted, yet
True.  

Seventeen years old,
You’re awesome
We’re so similar
So,
I love you?
No,
I realize that belongs to someone else,
But you think it's yours.
And that isn't true.
****.

I love you,
Goodnight
Every night, since forever ago
Rhythm
Routine
Family, friends
Taken for granted, yet
True.

Seventeen years old,
I hate myself
Because I’ve hurt you
Your pain is killing me
Though really, it’s me
Killing you
I love you,
It's true.
But,
How can you ever forgive me?

I love you,
Goodnight
Every night, since forever ago
Rhythm
Routine
Family, friends
Taken for granted, yet
True.

Eighteen years old,
I love you
It’s true
But you’re broken still
And I wish I could heal the horror
I caused
For you.

I love you,
Goodnight
Every night, since forever ago
Rhythm
Routine
Family, friends
Taken for granted, yet
True.  

Eighteen years old,
I love you
Whispered gently
Deeply
Truly
I want to kiss you
I want to hold you
I want to be with you
Can we, please?

I love you,
Goodnight
Every night, since forever ago
Rhythm
Routine
Family, friends
Taken for granted, yet
True.

Eighteen years old,
Yes. We can.
I love you too.
I still truly do.

I love you,
Goodnight
Every night, since forever ago
Rhythm
Routine
Family, friends
Taken for granted, yet
True.

Eighteen years old,
I love you
But…
Why are you doing this to me?
Why can’t you talk to me instead of hiding behind the texts?
What’s happening?
Please.
Don’t do it this way.

I love you,
Goodnight
Every night, since forever ago
Rhythm
Routine
Family, friends
Taken for granted, yet
True.  

Eighteen years old,
Tears
Broken
Mind exploding with assumptions
Intuition telling the worst of tales
Distrustful
Hurt
Why this pain?

I love you,
Goodnight
Every night, since forever ago
Rhythm
Routine
Family, friends
Taken for granted, yet
True.  

Eighteen years old,
Bitter
Am I jealous?
This isn’t good…
What’s happened to me?
Helpless and
Still true
I love you
But...
Who knows why?

I love you,
Goodnight
Every night, since forever ago
Rhythm
Routine
Family, friends
Taken for granted, yet
True.

Eighteen years old,
And here come apologies
A letter…. I love letters
And
I love you too
Still,
Somehow.
It's true.

I love you,
Goodnight
Every night, since forever ago
Rhythm
Routine
Family, friends
Taken for granted, yet
True.

Eighteen years old
I don’t know what’s wrong with me
Sad
Hurt
Insecure
Doubtful
Distrustful
Broken
Beyond belief
Empty.

I love you,
Goodnight
Every night, since forever ago
Rhythm
Routine
Family, friends
Taken for granted, yet
True.

Eighteen years old
And
I keep crying
I cried because you were so caring towards to me the other day
And it was so sweet.
I cried because you hugged me and let me cry on you
I cried because I love staring into your deep soulful eyes
I cried because I feel so much, all the time, for you
I cried because sometimes I truly hate how much
I love you.

I love you,
Goodnight
Every night, since forever ago
Rhythm
Routine
Family, friends
Taken for granted, yet
True.

Eighteen years old,
And goodnight dear one,
I still really do love you. 
And, I promise you 
All of this is true.

seventeen
it was fun
till it wasn't

seventeen
haunts me

seventeen
hates me

seventeen
isn't real

seventeen
was ugly

seventeen
don't leave

seventeen
I never want to see you again

seventeen
I'll do it all again

seventeen
you're the worst

seventeen
I love you

She is seventeen

She heard his wish - the boy who wished upon her at the balcony. She heard his worries. About how he is worried of not passing his examination, about the way his parents treat him and about the way his heart never settles since the day he left his significant other.
                             "Was it my fault?"
He asked as he buried his head in his palms and stare at the falling stars on that one lucky night. A moment there he felt like the star answered him. A moment there he felt the star is looking at him in hopes he feels the magical feeling she is feeling now that she is seventeen. The magical feeling she felt and how she is too naive that she fell at first sight on the boy who told him his worries. She fell to the earth of her feelings.

She is seventeen.

Was it really hope? Did she really fell in love with hope? Or was it still the boy on that balcony? She felt the presence of faith and she knew faith was always right. By the time she really fell head over heels on hope, faith brought a friend.
     Trust.
Was she strong enough to trust?
Was she strong enough to have faith in her hopes.
                                   Yet she still has hopes on waking up the next day with faith by her side and trust in her heart.
        So, how does it feels to really felt right?
                         How does it feels to have the feelings at the right places?

She is seventeen.

"Do I really want to stay like this forever?" She asked herself.
               To have no worries and be a child at heart and out. To escape the reality when she really need reality to escape the magical feelings.
Did she really took Peterpan's hand and flew to Neverland and never came back?
                                     Did the sleeping pills worked?
When the clock strikes 6, and the morning came, her mom at her door knocks on thrice.
                                "Jane, wake up." With a voice as soft as the feelings of her comforters that surrounds her body.
                                                           ­             "In a minute."
She took his hand and flew to Neverland but once she saw the mermaids in Mermaid Lagoon, she swam and fell in love with water. She sat on a rock and hold Peter's hand and again she felt those magical feelings again. She kissed Peter's cheek and told him,
                                                            ­   "I need to escape this magical feelings."
And so she woke up on her bed.

She is seventeen.

Forgiving was hard.
           Forgetting was harder.
Yet, those words seems so easy for her now.
                                              The magical feelings that has long gone, made it harder.
She swam through life and sometimes she would choke on the water and stop. But she knows the ocean is big and she never stopped swimming. She met the dolphins and fishes, she even met a few big waves. But she knows there will be a boat right behind her to save her when she's drowning.
        Sometimes she felt it is stupid for her to not sculpt her life before doing anything but she loves the water ever since the Mermaid Lagoon so she continues what she loves. Sometimes she feels someone looking upon her like the boy at the balcony who told her his worries. She felt the pixie dust who tried to help her bit by bit; trying to let her fly and skip the horrendous waves.
                                                          ­Sometimes she used it
                                                              ­      Sometimes she told him no and she swam again.

She is seventeen.

Yet she danced on Jupiter, hopped on the rings of Saturn, fell in love at first sight, went to Neverland, met the mermaids, her first love was someone who never want to grow up, and she swam the oceans. *Was she still a beautiful aurora?