Children built on the hopes of others, children of the small town where art did not live. We did not end up being what you wanted us to be. We carry dreams in our pockets and keep them to ourselves. The moment came when we found out that we cannot change who we were,

we stayed until our hair turned white,

we stayed until the edges of the sky became light,

that moment reminds me that when I fail myself, when I fail everyone around me,

when I feel I do not deserve the lips that kiss me on the temple,

That I have been a part of something worthwhile.

These beautiful triumphs and losses remind us that we are far from perfect but at the same time it is all worth it. Keep creating what you love.

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by The Hiena