Young poets,
It’s funny how you start off with butterflies in your bellies and love notes
Be it the girl that tickles your fancy in maths class
Or that guy you’re in love with but, barely know
Young poets,
It hurts me to see you graduate into writing about heartbreaks and sorrows
To feel your hearts beat so weak, they sound like echoes
Because your one true happiness is now the demon that lingers
Young poets,
I am proud to have seen you develop
From insignificant feelings, to pain, to something a lot more abrupt
I can feel it in your choice of words and attempt to come off as strong
I only hope that from now on, you are fully aware of your self worth
Love,
A
x
