Look into their eyes. Eager, wanting to know. Wanting to know what they got themselves into. Fresh faces, years before the first wrinkle. Blank slates hanging on our every word. Each time, a clean slate pregnant with potential. Each time, A new opportunity. Each time, we let them down. We let them down by filling them up with our superstitions, our fears, our prejudice, our ignorance. Each time, we hand them to the future shackled, blinded. Each time we must do better. Humanities future depends on it.
With the essence of elegance, And with the timelessness of beautified brilliance, My mind knows there’s not a word in existence, That could ever explain or express, What my eyes see in this moment that’s left my world in a
An innocent small girl is crying on the roadside her face seems very candid and expressions look naïve, but nobody knows the cause of her sadness and and no one can ever feel the hidden wounds inside her heart Why
She was four and I was six. We held hands and ate pixie stix. The big head little girl whom followed me around the corner. Soon we became friends. We held hands with skin like bricks. I cleansed her hands
Ssshh. Don’t let anyone hear you. Don’t tell anyone about it. It’ll be our little secret My friends can’t know. Turned into they know we are fucking not that we are together. I’m just not ready yet. Can it be