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?

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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