It is with enormous pride that I share this poem, written by my son, with whoever reads my drivel.
This is a poem every teenager can relate too, and every parent should read and listen too. I know I needed to hear this.
Slam
Life’s hard… They say.
Followed by an ignorant glare that says,
Pfft, you don’t even know.
Maybe I don’t know,
Maybe everything from now on will go so downhill I’ll need ski poles
And maybe these obstacles I face now will one day turn to potholes,
And when I need someone to hold,
All that’s left to grasp with my last gasp are these
Hormones that you blame for every struggle that’s,
Pfft, not so bad.
Depression, anxiety, bipolar disorder,
All things I seek to blame for the shame I feel for hurting.
The same shame that follows every tear down my cheek,
I must be so weak getting knocked down by these adolescent problems that are, Pfft, not so bad.
So what do I do?
I wake up every morning knowing that I’m entering the preparation phase,
I look to lay my gaze upon anyone…
Anyone who will listen to what I exclaim and not proclaim that what I feel is
But a feather.
Light.
Each sunrise like a tick on a time bomb
Steadily marching towards the day in which my feelings are validated
And all these problems that,
Ha,
Aren’t so bad…
Are so bad!
And when I look up from the bloody canvas of the ring of my brain
To see your smiling face, grinning ear to ear at the extent of my pain.
“Now your problems are real, now you’re allowed to feel,” They say.
The last words that travel into my ear,
My vision fills with light but I do not fear,
Because my head is so full of these “insignificant issues” that
I’m numb!
So listen to me when I tell you…
That when a broken soul looks to you for a lifeline,
And when tear-filled eyes look to you for support, Don’t look back and say,
Pfft, that’s not so bad.
Say wow, you don’t deserve that.
And I’m here for you.
And you’re not alone.
I know what youre going through And you have a home.
You.
Are.
Loved.
-Alastair
I hope you read this far.
Tris
Tristram's Blog 