Tuesday, June 16, 2015

Childhood Summer

Some kids live out their single digit years in a nice neighborhood. They would live behind a white picket fence, ignorant to the whole world. Behind their white coated walls and their heavily decorated rooms, they begin their curiosity in narcotics and a blurred line between morally right and wrong.

Some kids live out their childhood in just that, a hood. They are surrounded by gangs, murders, rapes and robberies. Their parents drill into their heads to be better; to look for a bright future; to chase after their dreams, because the adults couldn't. The blame is put in delusional teenage fantasy and a white stick with a pink cross decorating it. Sometimes, these kids do overcome all of their obstacles, taking all of the hard ways, to earn the good ones. Sometimes, they try an easier way out; quickly following their parents' depravity.

Some kids live out their entire life in different homes. They've seen humanity's nature far too close for anyone's liking. Sometimes, they wish for better but they must hold their tongue. They are force upon this characteristic of self loathing; no one wants them. Their ego is smashed to pieces, and sometimes... they don't bother to pick it up.

Some kids live their school days hating their body, because they don't match up with the trend or they just don't quite fit. They hate themselves, hate their life, and their angst is practically fuming from their musk. They just can't quite see yet, and perhaps they never will.

Some of them drown themselves on electronic waves and fake names. I want to be someone other than me. Anyone, really. These thoughts run through their mind as they lie, and lie, and lie until their throats are sore and someone shuts them up. Though an unlikely encounter, there is always that misfortune. That is why parents try to warn them, but they don't see with their disabled eyes.

Some kids don't fit in these categories at all. They just live day to day, waiting for something amazing or outrageous to happen to them. They're always waiting.

What is your memory?

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