My You

I am a teenager, full of angst I'm rude and I'm crude and obnoxious I yell and I hit and I throw temper tantrums You are a boy awkward and tall You laugh and you joke and you smile, yet are refered to as "dork" and as "child" And yet... If one person can put up with all my distress with all of my vexing dillusional rage, It is you You with your jokes and laughs and grins You don't have a care in the world And you have chosen to carry some of my burdens Thank you Thank you for holding my hands to the sky And thanking the heavens that I am around Thank you for making me feel like I'm worth it, Thank you for knowing me Thank you for trying to understand me As I try and do the same for you