(I get this feeling to write it and write it all 

Everything with a beautiful story to a small poetry. This sudden urge of happiness or the emptiness head

From the feeling of something bad is going to happen

Or the feeling of joy that I might feel Right-now)

Now feels like the time for peace,

and a quiet little dream.

So here it goes —

On an empty school ground,

sat a boy, never loud enough to be found.

Silly.

Small.

A child,

but never wrong.

Sweet enough to cry when he missed his mom,

brave enough to fight when the bullies came along.

Fast on his feet, he ran every race,

with fire in his heart and wind on his face.

But he never won — not once.

And maybe that was the sign.

Maybe… something was already shifting inside.

He learned of life’s sharp rules,

of nights that change too soon.

He saw the hunger of the heart,

the restlessness of the mind,

and walked through places

where others wouldn’t survive.

Alone, he stayed —

under dark skies,

through endless nights.

Just like a marathon,

he ran from the weight of his life.

And there came a moment

he nearly gave up the light.

A night so quiet,

so cruel,

wounds glowing red under falling rain.

But this child —

he did not bow.

He tried.

And tried.

And tried again.

All the failures,

all the scars,

even the things that should’ve never been —

he carried them.

And still, he stayed.

“Oh Lord,” he whispered,

“am I misunderstood?

Or do You have a plan for me,

beyond this pain I’ve stood?”

Stillness answered.

But somehow… he stayed.

Because something in him still dreamed

of the sea,

of the sky,

of a soft place beneath a tree.

His eyes still sparkled

through every broken seam.

Every stitch —

a story.

Every scar —

a seed.

And now to you,

the one who reads,

the one who tries —

You are not misunderstood.

You are not behind.

You are right to stay.

You are right to dream.

And no matter how hard it gets —

please,

always try.