Reid@YWP

The clock is ticking, the Earth is crying,
A world once lush, now slowly dying.
The skies are choked with smoke and dust,
The oceans rise, the forests rust.

I'm so mad I can hardly write poetry anymore, 

every word rushes out and tumbles down, 

knocking the inside of my skull, 

a dull roar that follows me to school and home again. 

I have always loved the stars. 

When I was little, I remember 

locking myself out at night. 

The starlight shone down  

on the ground below, 

You look like a poem 

I wrote at night 

the stars are trapped inside 

those eyes of yours 

and I can't seem to look away 

You look like a poem 

I wrote at night 

One girl’s lanky frame against the dark turf field,

lit up by fluorescent lights 

She saunters toward the building 

holding another girl’s hand

Is this what it feels like?

To not be considered human?

To be some invalid,

Invisible thing

That almost nobody wants?

Is this what it feels like?

To be rejected and turned away?