The Youth Dilemma
written by: Martina L. Beattie
Tell me why I try when you say I can never get by. I’m told never to grow old and that these years are the ones that will get told, for high school was the best years of your life, with drinking, parties, and games galore; Living it up till four and repeating till you could no more. In hindsight, you’re right; those were the best years of your life, But in my right, I get no pleasure partying through the night. I prefer to dance in my kitchen that I saved to afford with decorations of historical lore. Tell me why I’m told this all would unfold because I am not as old or listen to what is told. We cannot compare our worlds, for we are not the same, but in reality, we are playing the same game. You are playing checkers, and I am playing chess, but it all comes down to who plays best. I must confess I am not the best; I’m picking up shifts, working nine to nine while still making time while you sit and whine that wasting my life is a crime. We both have time, but you choose to judge how I use mine? Time is the crime most of us spend coloring in the lines, but the prize is for the kind that color outside the lines. So when my story is told, tell them I have no goals, and my plans are full of holes. I once was told, to hold control of a soul that is already full; you must surrender to the life of diamonds that ends up being coal. There must be control; we must turn these social traditions into our mission to break the cycle and start anew. For me and you will never stick like glue, but I can guarantee with no warranty that this life will be the best that there can be; wait and see, just let me be me.
- The Youth Dilemma - February 16, 2022
