Letters to a Young Poet

You stare at walls hoping they will change shape.

You remain silence praying someone will scream, "I understand your pain."

You cover up your bruises because you've heard about what happens to little boys and girls in strange homes.

You eat little bites just to shut the screams in your stomach,

It's not really due to a healthy appetite.

In silence, you become a permanent visitor of the dark.

The shadows become your best friend.

Gray skies are your recurring forecast.

Young poet, it is during this time in forgotten space,

You find your talent in the bottom of the barrel of unforgiving,

excruciatingly damaging memory of persistent pain.

Young poet, it is in this valley of solitude,

you will find the strength to become your best friend.

The only decision you will have to make is "will you forget this young poet one day?"