I wonder what the world will be
When I am dead and gone.
Will it still be spinning round and round?
Imminent destruction it’s still bound?

I wonder if my death will change it.
Affect it in any way?
Will I make a difference to make it unlike it is today?
Can I stop the bullying, the pain?
Judgment due to gender, age, or race?

Can I truly create heaven out of hell
With just my mind on end?
For I am just one curious girl,
How can I even make a dent?
But my writing wields magic, you see,
Allowing me to be whoever I wish to be

And for now it’s just a pen and paper,
But in the future—
Well, that can wait till later.