Twenty Four Levels

I can’t believe I’m twenty-four.

Most of my judgemental viewers

thought I would be stalking a corner:

looking to score.

Or marching down a hallway:

settling a score.

Sure, I used to look like angst incarnate,

but that was only my outer shell:

the only part that resembled hell.

My inner world is no frog in a well.

Twenty four!

Twenty-four levels in this video game called life.

The difficulty is set to torment,

and my inventory only has a knife.

My mini-map is disabled,

and my mount won't fly.

My quest book is empty,

and I don't have a single ally.

A solo player is more likely to die.