Am I an inspiration?

How do people see me?

Does anyone fall in love with my talent?

I walk around school wishing,

Someone would come up to me and say,

Your pictures, they’re absolutely amazing.

Your poems, they’re incredible.

Where do you come up with them?

And I’d say, experience.

Heartbreak, misery.

I dream of someone offering a major deal to me.

Not to be famous, but so people can change their lives

And how they view things

And realize what they’ve been missing all along.

Truly my only goal is to create an impact on them,

Especially the ones I love.

At my funeral I want people to say,

My God, have you seen her work? It’s mind-blowing.

Or they say, I can’t believe how long she lasted.

She got to go home, and have the life she dreamed of.

I remember how funny she was, always cracking me up

And never failing to make me smile whenever I saw her.

It’s sad she’s gone now, because no one can replace her.

And I’ll grin in my grave, with my blanket and fresh flowers

Knowing my boomerang finally reached the universe.

The End

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