Change;
It’s here, it’s there,
It’s constant, it’s never stopped.
As a teen,
I stand here,
A critical time of our lives, and yet time passes on.
We, us, always changing.
Finding our path; finding our identity.
Reminiscing on many things.
Seconds pass, minutes pass, hours pass.
We only care for ourselves.
My, you, we are all a one man army.
It’s a cruel thing to say,
Yet, somewhere in our hearts, we know we are that way.
The walking next generation.
We fail sometimes to think of others.
We play the sympathy games when hurt smashes others.
We barely ask, or scratch the surface of their pain.
Malevolent we would be by then.
But then us ourselves have then been hit with the bullet.
They will do the same thing, what we did to them.
Kindness suddenly feels scarce.
We should tell ourselves life is a two way street.
The world can either bless you or comeback at you with a vengeance.
We should see that a random act of kindness can result in something wonderful.
People should be compassionate; for the future radiant garden we are planting.