I wrote this about a month after hearing about the death of someone my age.  I never knew them; I'd never even heard of them.  But the way everyone talked made it seem like a suicide.  To this day, I'm still uncertain of what actually happened, but it affected me deeply in the moment.  I cried in the middle of class, and wrote a poem to the victim.  A while later, I wrote this one, still thinking about them.  

I wrote this poem thinking about how our lives and experiences are a bit like melodies that make each of our stories unique and beautiful.  Many people's melodies (like mine) are still incomplete, messy, and just not quite right yet.  I want to inspire other kids like me to keep writing no matter how impossible it may seem.