Everyday your headphones are in your ears and you seem to escape the world. Like you’re in your own world away from the drama and craziness that people bring into the universe. You pull out your notebook and write poetry. All of your experiences, thoughts, and pain are inside those poems. Everyday I see you and everytime I hesitate to approach because you seem so at peace. All by yourself. Apart of me feels sympathy because you’re alone but the other half of me knows that you’re not lonely. You seem so comfortable bleeding your pain into those poems, something I could never have the strength to do. Some might see someone like you as weak because you’re always alone but I wish I could be as strong as you are. Be strong enough to put all the weaknesses and evils of myself and the world up to a mirror and trying to change them. So there you sit all by yourself, surrounded by the problems of your own life and those of the world. I just sit here in amazement, your pen keeps glidding across the notebook and I just know that one day that notebook, that pen, and those words will forever change the world.