He has always dreamed of being a poet,
But in his early life he didn't know it.
Tormented by his own past,
In hopes that they pass,
That their dark fiendish hands no longer cast,
A shadow over him.

Nightmares reoccur haunting his soul,
Of heartbreak and pursuit of being whole,
Those nightmares evoked emotions,
So when screaming at silent oceans,
Was no longer an option,
He turned to his friend ; poetry.

His past keeps a grip on him,
Not letting go of his presence,
He bottled down to his last question,
'Who shall help me when I can't help myself?',
And a twinkle in the sky lit up his night,
He knew the flickering of flame quite often,
But this bright light guiding him,
Was different.
It was the stars,
And that was how he became a star gazer.

**** the fakes,
like for goodness sake.
we're forced into a prison with
plastic dolls, who always go to the mall and fall for the sport guys who are as tall as the skies. //

forget about,
the girls who destroyed your world.
i doubt, i doubt, that they actually care. look at them as they flip they hair, talking about you 24/7; then smiling at you the next day asking if you were okay, as if they cared.//

ignore the,
teachers who continue to bring you down, and laugh as they watch you frown in the bleachers. instead smirk at them, and be a goal achiever, become sucessful and laugh quietly as you see shock come upon their faces.//

prove to them how strong you are,**
show them that you're as bright as a star
be yourself, read books from bookshelves, do whatever. but don't become a fake, or a doubter or a gossiper, always be true, and be you.//

their the only people you can hate, and love so much at the same time.