At 17

At 17 I've lived too much.

I have loved more then I ever thought was possible

and have had enough heart ache to fill a chapel of worried sinners, worried that their new beginning won't ever be coming, but still believing.

Thankfully i've had my second chance at life, I could tell you it's already screwed but i'm still here at 17 so that has to mean something. 

At 17 I could've been the greatest already, even 16 or 15, well I sure was at 14 but nothing ever counts then anyways right?

That first kiss you've had at 14 won't mean a thing until you're in love at 17, standing on you're porch knowing that first kiss is coming. 

At 17 I found my person but at 17 the timings all wrong.

At 17
At 17 i've been to far too many funerals and have missed far too much school.

When you're younger you always dream of being 17. But at 17 it's never really what it seems.