Seventeen (A Poem)

In less than five minutes I’ll be seventeen

Many changes this year have been unforeseen

My alliances have shifted to contravene

This world that now functions like a faulty machine

I feel I’ve become a sort of Constantine

Constant peril like Caesar but by guillotine

Cast out from both armies, I’m in quarantine

Makes me cower away from the projection screen

These narcicissized hypocrites gripe and preen

Though my own words are admittedly labyrinthine

But each one of them disgustingly philistine

Each day catalyzing more internecine

Issues hyperbolized, dubbed elephantine

All concern placed on one’s moral hygiene

What we need now is a falsehood vaccine

But how would I know when I’m just seventeen?