Vacant eyed children in grown up shells .
we express our rage in stereotypical motion.
All the while declaring no one understands my pain .
We are but children set afloat like so many Chinese Lanterns
Cast out on a sea of lost hopes and long abandoned dreams.
Some cannot handle the waves and succomb to the currant
While those few bright and brave ,
Those strong enough to withstand the storms and waves emerge from the squall brighter ,
More hopeful ,
Like the same wave that nearly extinguished them is now the very thing that presses them on,
That pushes them forward.
They have license to dream again ,
They say what doesnt kill you makes you stronger,
For these tempest tossed children ,
The ability to dream again is like breath to an asthmatic"
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