We are blanketed with cautionary tales

Of wrong choices not of our own but of theirs

And constantly reminded that they

Are no different

Protesting this , would be like splitting hairs

reactions argue mute points  made from

What they consider nothing

But we know better

or so we think

And as a thinking thing, we exert ourselves

Into existence, but are held to mere childlike form

Like matter that doesn’t matter

unless it is discovered by something that matters

Or form that is formed from something, but always was there

In some form,  until it was recognized, as a formidable thing

By a formidable  thing


We are adolescent

Until we are recognized we are not

-Jennifer McLaughlin  WordPress Post