Barely 17,
Looking for a dream,
But finding none to follow.
You wipe your tears,
To stubborn to die,
Waiting for a miracle,
Waiting to find your place,
And looking for a decent face.

None is found your sorrow comes down,
You fall, your face in the dirt.
You know you have lost,
You know you can't win but you still try to blend in.

You cry out for an answer,
You can't take anymore,
You are, after all 17,
You glance at the dirt,
You feel confort in knowing that you can't go any lower.

You feel the weight of the Earth come down,
You are smoothered,
And yet you still wait for someone to find you.

The World smushes you under all your preasure,
But you've had worse by those friends that you hang with,
You turn into a rock,
Just a typical person that walks the Earth.

You are only 17,
Now your waiting in the shadows for someone to acknowledge,
But noone comes,
You are 17,
And you allowed the World to take over you.
No more spirit is left in you,
Now your emotions match the rock you have become.

After all you are a typical 17 year old.