The Opinions of a Teen Aged Girl

The rioting over the United States over something as small as the pigment of your skin is a problem in almost every one of the fifty states.

Many people will tell you that this is a matter of opinion. But I thought that this issue was resolved years ago during the years of Honest Abe. Was I wrong to assume that an issue so big as to have its own war should have been resolved some two-hundred years later? Then another great man by the name of Martin Luther King Jr. had the brilliant idea of stopping discrimination for good. Well, it looks like he didn’t make the desired effect that he yearned for. Why do we even care that we live with people that have different makeup foundation numbers? Its what’s on the inside that matters about a human being. You probably hear that a lot but don’t even realize how true it is. So, as I write this, I understand and realize that not all who read this will be changed. But I hope that it will change at least one person’s heart. That’s one more person I’m helping from doing something they regret just so that they can get on the national news. Do these people think before they do these things? What are these people on when they do these things? Am I the only one who has these thoughts scroll through my head everytime I see a story about racism on the news? Why? Just care about people. You’ll find that that one characteristic will get you farther in life than the most likes on a selfie on Instagram.

And that gets me started on another topic. Bullying. Being a person who was bullied, I totally know what I’m saying when I say it hurts. Bad. And I don’t mean just physically, but most of the time mentally. I hate it when I hear that a kid committed suicide and the parents are sitting there acting like they have no idea why. Well, it would probably help for people to get off of their smartphones once and a while and actually have a conversation with their kids to realize that their child in hurting from the way that they are being treated. You want to know who the first people are, after the parents, that come up to the camera and say in their sad, crying and completely fake devastated voice “He(she) was such a good kid. They were always super nice to everyone.”? The people who do the bullying. Also known as bullies. They have no right to even come near that poor kid’s parents and say anything to them unless it’s an apology for in a roundabout way murdering their child. Because if you are a bully, you have the blood of all your innocent victims on your hands. Think about that for a while. In fact, I just want to say that I respect people who think about every word before they say it. Because obviously, if they’re thinking about what they’re about to say, they’re thinking about how their words will affect the person that they are telling them to. Which means that they care about people’s feelings more than they care about their popularity. And I’m not perfect at all, trust me. But I just strongly believe that people need to be nicer. Please. I don’t want to die knowing that I could have done something to help people and I didn’t because I was too scared. I know that I’m only fourteen and that I don’t know anything when it comes to the way life works, but I have been told that I am more mature than what my age’s reputation usually is. If I had to pick my last words that I would say to that unappreciated nurse at my deathbed, they would be: “Thank you for everything that you do. I know that you have to deal with a lot of cranky dying people every day, but I just want you to know that you are changing the world, one dead person at a time. Go tell someone that they need to change the world to make it a better place.” Now, this is relying on the fact that I have saved up a lot of oxygen and thought process to use in my dying moment, but still, if I could get it all out, I would. And then maybe that one nurse could tell some of her friends and then the word could somehow get back to me up in Paradise. Because that’s where I’m going to try to go. Come join me some day. It would be nice to meet you.

This poem is about: 
Our world


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