For those kids,
For those different, out there people.
This poem is for you.
This poem is for that girl
Who would rather spend her night
Under the protection of a tree
Than the protection of a roof.
For that boy,
Who was able to show
His emotion.
For those kids who thought that
Spending the day locked in their room
With a guitar,
Was much more fun that the party of the year.
For that girl with the paint-splattered clothes,
Who was only comfortable with a sheet of paper in her sight.
For that boy,
The one who spent hours
Out under the stars,
Writing away his fears and tears.
For those losers
Who were never given a chance,
Those kids that were lost before they even started out on their journey.
For those outcasts
Who just yearned for acceptance.
This is for you.
The best kids in the world,
I firmly believe.
For that little girl,
Who when asked as a child,
"What do you want to be when you grow up?"
She would reply proudly, "An artist."
This is for you, the same girl who grew up, and who still replies, "An artist."
You need some recognition...
Why are these people always shrugged off?
Is it out of fear?
Because, in my mind,
You are all more than artists.
You are magicians, in the purest form.
