I wanta write a poem for the ages.
For the George Washingtons
of my generation.
I wanta write a poem for the ages.

For the Thomas Jeffersons
and the
Benjamin Franklins who
aren't afraid to dream of
words that haven't been
created
and things that have
yet to be
designed.
I wanta write a poem for the ages.

For the
Revolutionaries who
have yet to be
born.
For the Paul Reveres
who have yet
to take their midnight
rides
one if by land,
two if by sea.
one if by land,
two if by sea.

I wanta write a poem for the ages.

For the
modern day
Lewis and Clarks who
explored a land beyond
exploration's eye.
For the Sacagawea guides that
guide from a shining sea
to a sea of gold.
For the immigrants who
traversed waters of salty tears
made solely of their own fears.
I wanta write a poem for the ages.

For the slaves held captive
not by their captors,
but by their own fears,
hopes,
desires
and dreams.
Afraid to pursue a land
just slightly beyond their own
R          e          a          c          h.

I wanta write a poem for the ages.
For the conductors of the railroad
that was unseen.
The one that ran not on
coal and steam,
but the one that
ran on
Dreams.

I wanta write a poem for the ages,
for the Teddy Roosevelt
conservationists
and the Stravinsky
concert pianists
and the Maya Angelou
performers,
and the,
people.

I wanta write a poem for the ages.
For the soldiers battling
for a cause they didn't
even start.
For the lives that gave their
lives for a cause,
because they believed in
The cause.

I wanta write a poem for the ages.
For the Daddy who's still
looking for work,
For the Mommy who has
given up
Hope.
For the widow and
her orphan,
For the soup kitchens
that can't
stay open long enough.
For the failing
Economy.

I wanta write a poem for the ages.
For the mustached
man in Germany
rising to a power
ever Grand.
For the nations willing to
ignore it if they can.
For the day that everything
changed.
December 7th, 1941
will forever live
in infamy.

I wanta write a poem for the ages.
For the unconquered Jews who
fought back.
For Anne Frank and her
family.

I wanta write a poem for the ages
For the modern day
Martin Luther King
Jr.'s.
For the ones
who
Aren't afraid to challenge a
System designed to
fight against them.
For the
modern day
Claudette Colvins.
The ones who
aren't afraid to sit down
to make a stand.

I wanta write poem for the ages
For the modern day
Buzz Aldrins
who are
altogether underrated
Just
because they came in
Second.

I wanta write a poem for the ages.
A poem that speaks louder
than words
and goes beyond
generations.

So I wrote a poem for the ages.

And I can’t stop thinking about
that kid from BVNW.
My heart hurts.
And I find myself crying tears that have
no reason,
no rhyme,
no purpose.

Because,
you see,
WE NEVER INTERTWINED
So why are you engraved on the edges of my
mind…

Our lives touched,
yes. But through the lives that others
lived.

I know someone that you
knew. Knew because
past tense is the definition of death.
That is all that death is.
Switching from
Present to past.

When I heard that a
tree fell at BVNW
I couldn’t help feeling…
Relief.
It wasn’t my school.
Relief.
Not again.
Relief.

I know it’s..
Selfish.
But I can’t help myself.
And maybe that’s why
I can’t stop thinking about
you. You consume my mind,
Blake.

Everyone around me
easily carries out
the day to day.
But I don’t know how anymore.
BECAUSE EVERYTHING’S DIFFERENT
now.
Another kid is dead
AND I CAN’T STOP THINKING ABOUT
him.

Did you even know
that Blake wore
beanies?
Did you even care?

Sometimes I think I’m the
only one who so
deeply contemplates
death.

So If a tree falls
in a different forest
than mine,
then why am I feeling the
Reverberations?
I feel like I’m the only
one who
can.

How can you feel so much
for a tree you never even saw
Until it was a
fallen
tree.

So I guess this is a
letter to
Blake from BVNW.
Even though our forests
never touched,
I
heard it when your tree fell.
I
felt the reverberations.
I
felt the earth shudder and
readjust.
Because the balances are
different now.
And we must figure out
how to live once more.
How to live without your tree
in the
forest.

Beautiful is how she sees herself. She is
Always full of questions for the one who has the answers. She is full of
Youth and vibrancy. Always taking chances and risks, busy
Living life to the fullest extent. She is more
Intelligent than she gives herself credit for.
Exuberant to the point of sickness.

Always asking the questions no one wants to answer. She easily gets
Lost inside of her own mind. She
Yearns for summer. But all she has are memories of all the
Summers of years past. If
Only she would realize that all we have is today and tomorrow will
Never come if she is too

Busy living in the past to
Accept and enjoy the pleasures of the now. She remembers all too well the
Remnants of days that didn't go as planned and if she's not careful she will get lost inside the
Remnants. She tries to remember that
Every day is not a reminder of yesterday, but a second chance
To live better
Tomorrow.

Maybe she was born.
Maybe.
Sometimes she doesn't know.
Because to be born,
you must first be alive.
And she isn't so sure
Anymore.

She was born into a land
of gold and riches and fame.
Into a world where she is
Just another soul.
1/6.8 BILLION

So who gives a ****?

But then they wrapped like
a blanket, tight-knit
over her.
Warm, thick,
she didn't deserve the comfort they
Provide.

So she became
1/5.
Because there are four other people on this
Miserable
Planet who love her
with a  love simply not
based on conditions or
destination.
A love based simply
on existence.

So the four watched her grow
from infant to toddler.
And then four grew to
five.
And the love didn't change.

Milestone by simple
Milestone
they watched her grow,
Removing the blanket
bit by bit,
Until one day,
it was
gone.