Writing

(I don't mean any offense towards anyone, I swear)

Snow is melting out on the yard

Green grass shows itself to tired eyes

The winter was so long and hard

'Till your warm green powers started to pry.

It isn't fair

The school air

Hurts my arms

Hurts my head

Hurts my body

Hurts my face

Hurts my brain.

School air

Isn't fair.

Thank you Rosa Parks, for the good you did.

Thank you for standing up and fighting back.

Thank you for bringing a country to be proud of.

Though, I fear you wouldn't be happy with the turn we've taken.

A door stands quiet, out of sight, 
Its edges lined with silver light. 
It hums a tune both soft and low, 
Of secret lands the brave may know. 

This is a reflection a boy who bullied me when I was younger. Now, I think I might understand what he was going through.


He scarred me.

Deep.

into my bones.

It feels like

Grief.