Tame rebellion

If you come into my room whistling
and briskly pull up the blinds
and you say cheerily one more time
Wakey wakey, rise and shine!
I will punch you in the face
I tell my dad over dinner
I am not really sure
I will make good
on this promise
But the me of the morning
lives by a looser moral code

Fuck the rules
I hiss under my breath
as my mother suggests
making my bed
Probably not my finest choice
of moment to advance
my budding anarchist beliefs
But who is she to tell me
what to do with my own sheets?

I am sent to the principals office
for putting bows in my friend’s hair
When we are asked why we did it
We say he wanted to look pretty
And when told to take them out
I say it seems unfair
boys can’t wear bows

We have to go do drama things
We invent to the teacher, scheming
And gleefully celebrate as
we are escaping class
But then we go
do drama things anyway
Because we forgot
we actually have
nothing better to do
after all

Can we get on with it now?
I interject
after seeming hours of rambling
Then quickly only empty corridor
applauds my tame rebellion

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