Why do they serve us?

A poem written by my 23 year old cousin, Chinmoy a chopper pilot of IAF:
Why do I still serve you?
How you play with us, did you ever see?
At Seven, I had decided what I wanted to be;
I would serve you to the end,
All these boundaries I would defend.
Now you make me look like a fool,
When at Seventeen and just out of school;
Went to the place where they made 'men out of boys'
Lived a tough life …sacrificed a few joys...