POV of a 17 year old

I wrote this my senior year of high school for my Creative Writing class.

Much of my writing is to remind my ‘older’ self of things I learn and how I felt at certain ages of my life.  My goal for this poem was to not only express how I was feeling at that moment, but also to show how I knew in the future I’d be facing the same opinion from my own children.  Do children ever really understand adults before they become adults?  I remember writing and rewriting the ending to express the cycle of the adult/child relationship.  How we think we’ll remember and somehow ‘right the wrongs’ we faced as children, yet we end up creating new ‘wrongs’ with the next generation.

What do you think?

******

I’m getting older and hopefully wiser
although my parents still treat me as a child,
at times.
I suppose I understand
I’ll always be their child.
I am the youngest
the baby
the Lucky One
at least my sister thinks so.
I don’t know about that myself
sometimes
I feel I have it the worst of anyone.
My sisters achievements
held up to me as a mold
something I should fit
but don’t.
I am unique, my own persona
I’ve been called the ‘happy one’, the ‘talkative one’.
What happens when I’m in a neutral mood?
A ‘I’m here” only mood? When I just want to sit and think?
I’m now the ‘grumpy, unusually silent one’.
No, just tired.
No use though, trying to explain
takes too much of their time to listen.
They like me better when I’m happy, acting
like there’s nothing for them
to worry about.
I wish they took as much interest in my stories of the day
as they do
with the 11 o’clock news.
I will look back and remember
I will use these memories
to my advantage
for my children.
I will always try to be there for them
reschedule appointments
remember important dates for my child’s activities
listen to their boring yet trying experiences
in their self-centered
child world.
Love them forever.
I guess I have grown wiser as
I grew older
I only hope my children will know
and appreciate just how far
I came
and
how wise I’ve
grown.