I'm always so 
Angry all the time—
Rage
Boiling my blood
As the sun 
Burns my face
Outside at a march.
I'm ranting at the dinner table
Ranting online
Too much, it's too much
These political scams,
The wicked games people play.

I watch movies sometimes,
And the sixteen-year-olds there
Aren't fixated on
Climate change
Or vaccine distribution
Or rights being taken away—
They're focused on
Boys and girls and magic and madness, and
They're not drowning themselves in music
To escape the modern world.

I was told, I was promised I had a future
But that future still isn't here—
It's being slowly crushed under the fingers
Of some politician
Who doesn't know, doesn't care
That I exist.
My friends, they're pessimists now—
They're too scared that their future may not come, so
Better be right than disappointed.
I try to keep an optimistic view,
But it's hard when I'm proven wrong
At every turn.

Shoot for the stars, they told me, 
Shoot for the moon.
I'm worried I can't, I say, quietly.
How am I to shoot for the moon
If I'm a child whose eyes were opened too soon?