Countless birthday candles and shooting stars,
I was raised to dream endlessly,
Believe that nothing was beyond the realms of possibility.
Perhaps that is what my love for stargazing was born of,
Opportunities to make wishes;
Stroll down the path of life without dismissals.
Growing up with everything you wish for,
Makes it mundane to want,
Ask a world taunted by needs, and anticipate it to grant.
Little did I know,
Of the long ways I had yet to go.
Little did I know,
Of the storm that had to pass before one could see the rainbow.
Life isn’t as pretty, as the poems claim it to be.
Life hadn’t been as kind to most, as it had been to me.
Most people are given less than they deserve.
And in the face of brutal inequality, they are expected to survive.
Those of you, with your pockets full of wishes,
Spare some for those who may need it more to go on.
The greatest thing you can do with the kindness you were shown,
Is send it forward to those, who haven’t had as many stars to wish upon.
When I was younger and I was faced with the question of what I wanted to be when I grew up, it was never a career path that came to mind. To be good. That has always been the goal. And what is good? Who is a good person? There are so many different answers. But they all boil down to the idea of acceptance. A good person is someone who simply goes out of their way to avoid making someone else’s life harder. Will you be remembered as a good person if you’ve hurt the life of another? Well, it is human to err. So what is unequivocally good then? It is simply to try your best. To try your best to accept those who are different from you. To try your best to do right by your loved ones. To try your best to forgive yourself for the mistakes you’ve made and seek redemption. To be good, is to try. And try I will. I hope you do as well.
– The Obsessive Writer