I entered the double doors with hope.

With hope for the start of a new part of my life.

Hope for a breath of fresh air after all those years.

 

The double doors opened just as quick as they shut.

And then I felt trapped inside those halls,

Trapped and surrounded by their taunts, their cruel sneers.

 

The leaves of autumn fell as tears did from my eyes.

All this hope I had for peace and  joy,

Listen not to give pity, just open your ears.

 

The adult figures who promised to help me out,

Did nothing but justify the others.

Saying "Kids will be kids", not trying to hear.

 

By mid-winter I was isolated and alone, 

I spent each day in solitude.

Facing what proved to be my biggest fears.

 

Why is it that creativity and genius is always alone?

Is that what breeds our pure essence of creativity?

Why does society label innovative as "crazy"? 

 

Three years later and here I stand,

Feeling happy with friends,

All the power I need with a pen in hand.

 

They don't lie to you when they say it gets better.

It doesn't just happen,

That's not what they want you to understand.

 

When they say "it gets better,"

You have to learn

How to create "better" all by yourself.

 

The solitude helps you when you again are alone,

You've been through it before.

Now here's your chance, go on, take a stand.