12 Again

What I would give to turn twelve again

To have one year extra left

Before I start talking back to my ‘rents

And maybe even practising theft

How I wish I hadn’t squandered my time

On unimportant things

Because I’m SO not ready for teenagehood

And everything it brings

Most of my friends are already thirteen

They try to soothe me down

When I start blabbering on being a teen

And my face is set in a frown

But there’s only so much that they can do

So much they can persuade

One cannot fluff up the bed

If it doesn’t want to be made

All I really want to do right now

Is scream; just SCREAM

Because if there’s one thing I don’t want to be

It’s definitely thirteen

Did I SERIOUSLY just compare my buddies inability to convince me that being a year more than twelve isn’t  a crime to doing up a BED???

Shoot me. Please, shoot me.


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