A poem about TFiOS.
~~~The world~~~
is not a wish
granting factory.
Is what she says,her story telling
her it can be.
Her miracle coming in the likely form
of an angel.
An angel she calls a
friend,
a good friend,
a friend who
understands,
a friend who loves
her,
so much,
for who she is,
and her dreams,
however impossible
and unrealistic.
My thoughts stars
I can't fathom into
constellations.
Maybe the fault,dear Brutus,
isn't in our stars,
but in ourselves.
The fault that we
find,
human nature for
caring,
human nature for
giving,
a nature causing us,
to fall apart,
to love and be
broken.
But sometimes that
love,
is the key in
defeating the stars,
our destiny written
and being rewritten,
no matter the laws
of time
and space.
Our stars, bringing the patient
fate
that has followed us
since we learned of
life.
Delivering it on our
doorstep,
in our arms,
leaving a pile of
good
and bad things.
The good things don't necessarily
cancel out the bad
things
and the bad things
don't necessarily
cancel out the good
things,
but what you do,
what you feel
you pick out of that
pile of stuff
fate delivers to
you.
You are the person
you choose to be,
no matter what
others think of you,
no matter what
others
tell you to do.
You are the person
you choose to be,
and if you listen
to their complaints
and stereotypical
dreams,
then that
is who you can
become.
If you listen
to your heart,
you get to recreate the idea you have of yourself.
You are the person
who decides what
you're going to do
with your life,
day in and day out.
You have to attempt
to make something
for yourself
that is worth living
for,
that is worth
fighting for.
The phrase
'Are you okay?'
doesn't mean much.
Something we say,
just reaffirming
the thin veil of
fantasy
that we have put
over ourselves,
telling ourselves
that it has got to
get better.
It doesn't.
Sometimes,you die of a heart shattered
into a billion
pieces,
friends frantically
trying to sweep up
the fragments, shoving the piles
of the pieces into
your hands
hurting you more
than
when they were
spread away from you,
when you could not
care about it anymore.
Sometimes,
your friends help
you stand up,
help you put back
the pieces of
the shattered life
that you live,
slowly rebuilding,
giving time for the
wounds
to lessen their
pain,
and for you to
loosen your grip on fantasies.
Tightening our grip
on humanity,
one of the scariest
things
that you can do,
but at one point or
another,
it has to be done.
But in response to
the question,
no matter the tears
running down their
face,
their broken lives,
broken hearts,
broken from the
inside out,
hurt so much that you see it in their eyes.
Everyone feels
the need to say:
Okay.
http://www.fanfiction.net/s/9226314/1/Wish-Granting-Machines
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