Never wanting to go anywhere,
Do anything, move more than
Fourteen feet from the boob tube
Feels like a type of sickness.

“It’s part of being a teenager.”

Or so I’m told, but what if I
Begin to grow old this way,
So different from the spunky
Little kid I’ve been all these
Years, while the other kids
Were waving pixilated rifles
Around their TV screens.

They used to depend on me
For a good ol’ game of
Twister. Now, they’re all
Showing signs of age, and
Raging when I allude to the
Game that used to bring us
So much creativity, in our
Respective youthful ages.

I never learned how to be
A bum as young as the
Other kids did, and now I’m
Bummed to find that I’m on
My way to becoming one.

07/12/2005

Posted on 07/19/2005
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