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    This poem is dedicated to all the youths everywhere who are hurting this year as the holidays approach. To all the youths who are spending their holidays without a home, or without a family you can call your own. I understand. My heart is with you all, as this holiday I also am reminded of the pain. To all the people who read this…please, this year don’t pass us by but hear our plea.

“Tis the Season…”

By: Irena G. Lee

 

…To be Jolly.

Is what they say.

 

But oh.

How they forget.

 

That for us.

Tis the Season…

 

Becomes

…To be reminded.

 

Reminded more.

Than we are already every day.

Of the scars.

That the years have left.

On our hearts.

And on our bodies.

By those.

Who say they love us.

Reminded.

Yet again.

This year.

Is not the year.

That we will have a family.

That we have longed for.

Or possibly that warm shelter.

Again, passes us by.

Oh, how we try.

To put on the smiles.

For those.

Around us.

We really do.

You all must know.

But you all must also know.

That those smiles don’t match what we genuinely feel.

For us.

Every day is the same.

Try to stay alive another day.

So perhaps we will live one day.

Fit the mold.

So that they will perhaps except us.

Keep the peace.

As our lives depend on it.

 

 

You all must know.

That we wish upon the stars.

That this year.

Holidays.

Would truly be Tis the Season…

To be Jolly.

But.

Perhaps it is not this year.

Will you, please.

Just love us.

Will you, please.

Just respect us and accept us where we are.

Will you, please.

Just know.

That this year.

All we want is to be understood.

 

 

We plead.

To you today.

 

This year.

This holiday.

 

For you.

Is.

 

Tis the season…

…to, help us.

 

 

Oh.

How it is rare.

 

For us.

To let you know.

 

What we really need.

This year.

 

But today we do.

Oh, hear our plea.

 

I Mockingbird because I spent ten years using my voice where too many choose to pass me by. Sometimes all someone has is a voice and that should be enough. After ten long years, my voice was finally enough. There is a fire inside me to share my voice so other youths who are suffering, are in foster care, and experiencing homelessness don’t have to wait ten years to be heard…so that they can be listened to the minute they speak. When someone speaks they should be heard. For many it takes a long time for us to speak, when we do – we will be heard. A fire burns inside my soul, and it won’t go out; instead on it will burn so I can speak for those who are not heard easily.

Will you join me?

visit: https://www.mockingbirdsociety.org/whyimockingbird