The Push (Obsidian's Demise)

The FBI agent in my many cameras

has been assigned to watch my demise.

Almost 20 and in love with the camera,

experiencing more lows than highs.

I am almost not a teenager anymore.

Are you sure? Are you sure?

Can I handle the responsibility?

No fragility? Just civility?

An ad pops up for tissues,

Help from my agent I will not refuse.

Oh thank you, agent, whoever.

I could not imagine better!

But my student loan debt starts at 35k

Will I be ok? Will I be ok?

Maybe my hair needs a trim?

then pops another ad from him,

one for clothes and makeup I almost pressed.

Does he know best? Does he know best?

then another needless ad but I have patience

…I still have great love for my agent

But the ad that makes me not breathe

Is the one flashing BANKRUPTCY.

I furrow my brow (that was so mean).

The gestures I made were obscene

so, I turn off this screen that screen last screen

and I go get this dream that dream my dream

This poem is about: 
Me
My country
Our world
Poetry Terms Demonstrated: 

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