Poem for a Fourteen-Year-Old

     

              FOURTEEN

by

Grandma Baadsgaard

Happy birthday to my amazing grandson Brad. I sure love you.

                                              Today’s the day I turn fourteen.

Afraid I’m losing my summer tan.

This is my time when I’m stuck between

Being a boy and being a man.

Everyone expects so much of me

Just wish that they could see

I’m trying and trying and trying some more

To be the best person I can be.

So don’t say, “My you’re a long green bean.”

Say, “Why Brad, you are so tall and lean.

You are the most awesome eighth grader

This old world has ever seen.”

Sometimes my voice just has to crack

Right at the world’s worst time -

Like when I’m standing near to her

In a very long lunch line.

I always hope its pizza pie

My favorite lunch in junior high.

And even if she doesn’t sit by me

I breathe a sigh when she walks by.

My pants keep getting way too short

And piles of homework is a bore.

But if I win a game after school

I feel like I can soar.

Fourteen is when you start sprouting hair

In all the places where you used to be bare.

But there’s one thing I know for sure

Some days are hard and some days are fair.

Parents say, “Hurry up, don’t be late,

Teachers say, “Your paper is due on this date.”

There are school dances, Scouts and lots more tests -

Homework, housework and no time to rest.

I want to sleep in when it’s time to get up.

I want to stay up when it’s time for bed.

Mostly I’d rather be riding my skate board instead

And Mom says it’s hard to keep me fed.

But even with all the teen times I have

There’s always mom, sister, brothers and dad

A forever family we’ll always be

So I don’t have to spend even one day sad.

Pretty soon I’ll be done with school

And lots and lots and lots of rules.

But I’ll always need a great big hug

And a large, loving family around to love.