A few days ago I was having a conversation with someone about attitudes towards young people. Particularly the judgement thrown at them purely for acting like they are young and inexperienced and know less of the world. We have all been there at some point  – we all learn as we travel through life. Admittedly, some of us learn better than others, and sometimes we learn the wrong lessons altogether. But being young is not inherently a bad thing, and is something an individual has absolutely no control over!

This conversation brought to mind a poem I wrote back when I was a youth and was feeling judged for being young. It took a lot of rummaging through old notebooks but I eventually found it. Written when I was just the tender age of 16, here it is

The dying hate us
For we are still being born.
As we laugh and joke
They shake their heads in disapproval;
We are living too much for them.
They love the life they are dying,
why should we live more than they can?

They try to take our life from us
They complain to everyone
And grumble remarks as we pass.
We can do no right.
If we try to live a little bit for them,
To rejuvenate their dying breath,
They do not want to know.
Our life threatens them,
And they are untrusting and suspicious.

Their birth was so long ago,
It is forgotten,
And they cannot understand those
Who live like they’ll die tomorrow.