Cluttered papers in a pile 

containing heavy words and questions 

so much to learn with a young brain

yet quite the wise perception.

I wonder how, at that age, I grew to be so glum

The pictures caputure happy moments

But my writing detailing poverty and slums.

This is why I still write, why my heart continues pouring

Since time will pass and things will change

yet still remains the strength of our stories.