I am not old enough to drive,
I am not allowed to work,
I cannot vote,
And the world still sees me as a “child”.

I can lift myself up off the ground,
And I can dry my own tears,
And when someone I love is in need,
I will be there.

My name does not matter,
My voice is not heard,
My thoughts and feelings,
Are inferior.

I feel strongly,
I am capable of love and hate,
I can cry for myself,
And laugh when I’m happy.

Your eyes pass over me,
I cannot make decisions,
I’m too young to love,
And I am always wrong.

I can clean my own wounds,
I can carry my own weight,
I can learn quickly,
And I can think for myself.

What is an adult?
Someone over the age of 18?
Someone old enough,
To ruin their own lives?

What is a child?
Someone too young,
Too small,
To know how to live?

I am strong,
And smart,
And capable,
So why am I a child,
When you,
Who have had,
So many years,
Cannot take care of yourself,
Or me?

Please explain,
Because I don’t understand.