Ode to Twenty-Two

Yes yes, whoop-dee-doo
It's my birthday, I'm twenty-two
Another year has come and gone
I'm still sitting here as life's pawn

What am I doing with my life?
Unhealthy from this internal strife
Knowing would be a great release
All this confusion it would cease

I don't usually celebrate
Birthdays aren't usually that great
It only means I get older
It doesn't mean I get bolder

Hopefully next year I will be better
Maybe even writing a nice letter
And so I will stop giving you a hard time
Ending this frightfully horrible rhyme