Life

When I was young, I saw beauty and magic in everything.

The trees were where the fairies lived and if I made them a house, they would come.

The bushes were a secret hideout only I could find.

The stories told at nighttime transported me to far off lands full of adventure.

My mother’s kisses held the power to heal the most deadly of wounds.

My parents’ bed was a safe haven from monsters that haunted my dreams.

Dreams could show me what I most dearly desired.

Oh to be young again.

Now all I see are the bad things in life.

The outside holds dangers that tear you apart.

There seems to be no good left in the world.

I am required to go to school and be herded like cattle from room to room.

School is a dangerous place.

People can hurt you with one word; can break you apart for no reason.

Girls are cruel and “boys will be boys.”

Gone is the magic and beauty.

Gone are my hopes and dreams.

When I wake up, all I want to do is escape.

I feel empty, like a shell going through the motions of life without a purpose.

What is the meaning of life?

Is it God, who my parents taught me to love?

Is it all in the hopes of arriving in Heaven, the Promised Land?

Why did the perfect man die to save humans?

All you have to do is turn on the news to see how evil humans can be.

How could it be that he would save us, who are damaged and vile.

Could it be that he still sees as a child does, that he sees the beauty?

I must admit that if I look hard enough, I can see it too.

If that is the case, I must not lose hope.

I must trust and see the magic.

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