I'm young and I shouldn't preach
but at least listen to me speak.
I have dreams about
what this world could be.
I have ideas
on how we could be
and to discredit me
based solely on my youth
tells me more about you
than you could ever tell me.
Who silenced you
when you were young?
Who taught you that
the younger generation is dumb?
Who taught you it was okay
to silence those youthful tongues?

Who silenced you
you silencer?

mediocre and
faded
the average poem
no longer strikes chords
in the heart's harp
use extravagant vocabulary
weave your words tight
until they seem uncomfortable
the original meaning lost
between the claustrophobic corners
covered in lace and pretentious boasting
try but don't try so hard
that no one but the classic readers
would be able to understand
the words you've worked so hard to convey
do not force a poem out
or it will stick your fingers and
it will create a mess
similar to a teenage boy
it will be long and uncomfortable with itself
unknowing of how to adjust
into this thing that is supposed to be
mature now despite wanting to be simple
do not rush poetry
find quiet inspiration
in silent observations
of yourself, of nature
rushing poetry makes it fast
too many unfilled thoughts
racing around in one space
not meeting each other
despite being so close together
tell a story with imagery
with delicate words of morality
tell a story with flashbacks
with soft lips and with stained shirts
tell a story with love
make your poems with care