Yes, I am a child

Less than eighteen years of age

In school no less

And so I cannot have rage

I live a good life

So I do not know anything

I do not know struggle

I do not know to what shallow lies we cling

I do not know of the murder

Of the war, of the starvation we face

So I must be quiet

Otherwise, I’d be out of place

I am fortunate enough to have a voice

So I should shut up, keep quiet, be grateful I have a choice.

But is it because they think I shouldn’t speak?

Or is it that no one should, no matter strong or weak.

Not if you’re happy,

Not if you’re sad

Because however you are

There’s someone going through worse, so be glad

Yes, I am a child

Less than eighteen years of age

But that will not mean, now or ever

That I do not have the right to be enraged