At Seventeen I Learned The Truth

by Janice Ian

I learned the truth at seventeen, That love was meant for beauty queens And high school girls with clear-skinned smiles Who married young and then retired.

The valentines I never knew, The Friday night charades of youth Were spent on one more beautiful; At seventeen I learned the truth.

Those of us with ravaged faces Lacking in the social graces Desperately remained at home, Inventing lovers on the phone Who called to say "Come dance with me" And murmured vague obscenities; It isn't all it seems at seventeen.

The brown-eyed girl in hand-me-downs Whose name I never could pronounce Said, "Pity, please, the ones who serve They only get what they deserve,"  And the rich-relationed hometown queen Marries into what she needs With the guarantee of company And haven for the elderly.

Remember those who win the game Lose the love they sought to gain.  In debentures of quality and dubious integrity, The small town eyes will gaze at you In dull surprise when payment due Exceeds accounts received at seventeen.

And those of us who knew the pain Of valentines that never came, And those whose names were never called When choosing sides for basketball.  It was long ago and far away, The world was younger than today, And dreams were all they gave for free To ugly duckling girls like me.

We all played the game and when we dare To cheat ourselves at solitaire, Inventing lovers on the phone, Repenting other lives unknown.   They called to say, "come dance with me" And murmured vague obscenities; It isn't all it seems at seventeen.

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