The fact that I'm not a perfect circle makes me more interesting in this world

In my increasingly advancing years, I'm finding teenage angst, and in particular Sad Teenage Poetry, to be rather an embarassment. I liken it to seen your aging grandmother's scalp through her thinning hair; it's too intimate a thing to be bandied about and shared with just about anyone who has the ability to read. Of course, I am guilty of writing reams of the stuff, although I took great pleasure recently in burning a notpad full of the more twee offerings.
Angst is a phaze that should be left behind when the growth spurts stop and the acne clears up; but sometimes it becomes like a comfort blanket to its writers, and it cannot be left behind. As we grow and develop, surely we should balance ourselves, by celebrating what is good. Be a beautiful and unique snowflake if you wish, but remember that you are not the only one.

The poem below I believe strikes a good balance; the feeling of uniqueness is not something to be mourned, but to be celebrated.. it doesn't isolate you from the world, but instead makes you feel like an essential part of it; and hey, so what if yu don't kow what's going on around you all the time, "whether or not it is clear to you, no doubt the universe is unfolding as it should."

I would like to be a dot in a painting by Miro
by Moniza Alvi

Barely distinguishable from other dots,
it's true, but quite uniquely placed.
And from my dark centre

I'd survey the beauty of the linescape
and wonder -- would it be worthwhile
to roll myself towards the lemon stripe,

Centrally poised, and push my curves
against its edge, to give myself
a little attention?

But it's fine where I am.
I'll never make out what's going on
around me, and that's the joy of it.

The fact that I'm not a perfect circle
makes me more interesting in this world.
People will stare forever --

Even the most unemotional get excited.
So here I am, on the edge of animation,
a dream, a dance,a fantastic construction,

A child's adventure.
And nothing in this tawny sky
can get too close, or move too far away.