Suffocation

The clouds hang low, thick and dark It reminds me of the suffocation I feel here It is supposed to be my home, the secure native place Drop me off in a corner here, and I should be able to navigate back I suppose the land is lovely Petrichor and sweltering heat plays portrait paint Deathly beauty, stifling beauty Rules I do not want to abide by Opinions I’d like to fling across a hill, far from me I can’t appreciate the people here Old, not crippled, stuck in their ridiculous gilded cage A cage called society I pity them, a world lost all of a sudden They crave a sense of authority I wonder why it is that talking to the old I do not love, Is more fun than talking to those I do love I wish to return to my home Filled with the thrums of teen spirit, Of a lack of judgment, fun and life The old think we do not experience things anymore That is not true We do, we make long lasting friendships, we go on walks Yes, technology has seeped into our lives But I am sure, many of us still enjoy versions of life they enjoyed, albeit on a screen Chess? We get in on a screen, do we not? We can play beyond the people we know We get to talk to so many more people, learn of different countries We are fortunate, thanks to them, but the thanks seems to stop there I don’t wish for you to dictate my clothes, my opinions and my behaviour You do not have that right, I do not scream it at your face, because courtesy is something the youth has I wish to go back, it is too thick with boiling hot air here