there was a teenage boy.
the world was at his fingertips.
but nobody supported him.
you'll never accomplish your dreams,
they said.
you are worthless,
they said.
your dreams aren't realistic,
they said.
everything you're aiming for,
it's stupid.
you're stupid.
so since his goals weren't realistic,
he figured that he'd write ....
to all the teens in his place,
all the younger children in need of love,
all of the lustful people of the world,
the bewildered,
the powerless,
the silenced,
the tortured,
the lost,
and the hopeless.
in hopes that what he has to say,
will give others hope,
even if there is no way out of
the slump that they're in.
even if there isn't an ounce of
strength left.
carry on like it's your last day on earth.
because it might already be too late.
-s.h-
YOU ARE READING
The Moon, The Stars, You.
PoetryThis is a work of fiction. Names, characters, businesses, places, events and incidents are either products of the author's imagination or used in a fictitious manner. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, or actual events is purely coi...
