My eyelids droop low over my eyes-
Is it my imagination, or is it getting hard to focus?
Things and Ideas are there and then forgotten
As the fading back of my mind swallows them.
Maybe I'll recall them when my only thought isn't the resounding phrase,
Truth be told, I should sleep more-
This I know because I've been told a thousand times.
My teachers and parents have laid hundreds of fact-filled documents before me,
Thinking that, maybe I'll take note of their words and actually go to sleep at 9 instead of 12.
Then I'll wake up early and feel refreshed and ready for the day!
But it's not so simple.
I'm just tired.
Not just tired from whatever physical exertion I've done that day,
Not even from the mental feats I have possibly overcome.
But I am tired of the way things are-
At my school, at my home,
In my nation, in my head.
I'm tired, because I can't be done with those things.
As long as I exist, those things-
Will still be there!
Those troubles will go on and on, even after I leave them behind-
One way or another.
In some cases, those things can be tended to and then disappear-
I can stop procrastinating, get homework done,
Talk to someone about my mental health,
And maybe get some friends.
But, at the moment, I can't do anything about political problems.
I can't even vote yet.
And if I say anything, it will just be disregarded because-
I'm a teenager, I have no experience,
What do I know about politics?
The entire world looms over me,
And if I don't sneak under its shadow,
It seems that it might crash on top of me.
The media and the political conversations of those around me, do not help.
I feel discouraged to so much as state who I am because-
Someone will no doubt feel offended by it...
And I know that I will lose support.
But I have to make a decision.
I can't just let people identify me-
I have to identify myself and live by it-
Live with it, no matter the consequences.
But I'm scared that, so young in my life,
I'll make the wrong decision and it will trail behind me for the longest time.
What's inside and what's outside are constantly fighting.
It's so hard to stand up against the storm, yet on the other hand-
It's the right thing
And I will only be betraying myself if I don't.
I fear the disappointment of my parents.
I fear failure.
But I am tired of being afraid,
And still, tired of fighting.
You see my problem?
I dream of days when I stand up and declare,
"I have yet begun to fight!"
But those dreams are filled with defeated foes and adoring crowds.
Simply put, that is not a reality and might never be.
I'm unconfident but still young,
So I wish to find my confidence as age comes.
But, again, I am tired.
If I wait long enough, I can outlast this depression.
I won't be exhausted any longer.
I'll be able to leap over mountains...
I long for the day that I can get up and be emotionally and mentally ready to take on the world.
If it weren't for memories of previous breeches, I'd laugh at the thought...
I know this peom lacks its poetic sense, so let me amuse you.
Sleep does not come for those who live, so let me rest.
Let me stare at the falling skies until I have breath enough to run the burning plains.
Give me strength to rise only when I am prepared to face those grotesque idealogies that require so much of me.
And don't gag my cries as so many have done-
I fear that it has been the constant return of such which has helped weigh me down so...
Who knew silence was so heavy?
Thank you for listening,
I'm finished with my spiel.
Wish me luck in reaching my goals and-
Perhaps, you can help me with them.
Or we can lay down together,
Until we both find a reason to get up.
Maybe then we both won't be tired.