Magazine, website & books written by teens since 1989

Poetic Story: Aamon

I lay in bed every night,
More strength and energy
Leaving my body each day
I place my head on my pillow.
Constant medicating, needles,
Chemo, all for nothing.
There’s no point in helping
A lost cause like me.












I
Waste the time of my family
And my doctors.
No medicine will rest my thoughts at night
Or heal my aching body during the long days.
It’s her that makes me content.
It’s her that fills my dreams
With vivid happiness
That I know will never be reality
It’s her that fill my days with the only hope I have left
In my life since the diagnosis.
She is my best friend and the one
I secretly look up to
Shame comes over when I think of
The secret that I





am
Keeping from her.
She doesn’t need anyone.








She is strong.
She is beautiful.
? Repetition
She is perfect.
I sit and watch quietly while she talks
And as she lives her life
Knowing she doesn’t realize
How perfect she really is in my eyes.
No…
Medicine won’t help a brittle soul like mine
But nothing would heal me more
than having her








In my arms each time I place
My head on my pillow.
There is no hope for a









dying
Soul like me.



Post a Comment

Be the first to comment on this article!




Site Feedback