Sarah, a bright and introspective thirteen-year-old girl, found solace in her friendship with David, an older neighbor and a professional poet laureate. They shared a bond that transcended age and circumstance. However, Sarah kept her connection with David a secret from her suspicious and judgmental parents. Her family had a disdain for those they deemed different and held unkind assumptions about David.

“Sarah, why did you spend so much time with that David fellow? He’s always reciting poetry and wandering around like he’s better than everyone else.” Sarah’s mother asked her one morning.

“Mom, David is not like that. He’s a poet, a professional poet laureate. He has so much knowledge and experience to share with me.” Sarah defended.

Her mother scoffed, “Poetry, Sarah? You know that won’t get you anywhere in life. It’s just a hobby, a waste of time. You should focus on more practical things. I don’t want you wasting your time on such lazy activities. “

In Sarah’s household, where education and wealth were lacking, her family viewed David as a snobbish individual, envious of his respected position in the community. They dismissed his profession as a poet, considering it an impractical pursuit that couldn’t yield financial success. Their unfounded jokes about him being a crook further revealed their narrow-mindedness.

Sarah, too, was intelligent, but her family saw her intellectual curiosity as mere pretense to impress her teachers. Writing poetry became her refuge, a form of expression she cherished. She found encouragement and guidance from David, who nurtured her talent and mentored her to become a better writer. Their shared passion for words brought them closer.

However, David’s influence on Sarah extended beyond poetry. He introduced her to Jesus, sparking her interest in spirituality. This, unfortunately, added fuel to her family’s anger and rejection of all things religious. They associated religious individuals with arrogance, believing them to consider themselves superior to others.

Living in a household filled with criticism and insults toward everything she held dear was deeply distressing for Sarah. Her parents grew increasingly suspicious of her activities, especially her visits to David’s house. They restricted her to the confines of their yard, forbidding her from venturing towards David’s home or even visiting the book box that he had set up outside his house.

Her Dad would often say, being an “educated idiot” won’t put food on the table or pay the bills and when it came to discussions about God, her mother set clear boundaries, “We don’t need anyone telling us how to live our lives or what to believe in. We’ve managed just fine without it. You won’t be welcomed in this house if you’re gonna grow up to be a bible-thumper!”

Despite these limitations, Sarah remained determined to share her innermost thoughts and emotions. She wrote a poignant poem that captured her feelings of darkness and despair. Sarah longed for an outlet to share her work, to find understanding and solace beyond the confining walls of her home.

But her vigilant older sister, Emily, was always on the lookout, ready to tattle on her. Sarah struggled to find an opportunity to leave her poem for David in the book box. However, one day, fortune favored her as Emily fell ill and stayed home from school. This unexpected turn of events granted Sarah the chance she had been waiting for.

With Emily absent, Sarah seized the opportunity to leave her heartfelt poem in the book box. She carefully placed her creation, knowing that David would eventually find it. The book box, a small library created by David, served as a bridge between their worlds, where words and thoughts could be shared freely.

With a mix of trepidation and hope, Sarah stashed her poem, feeling a sense of relief as she released her thoughts into the world. She yearned for David’s response, for the validation and understanding that had eluded her within her own family. She eagerly awaited the connection, the reassurance that her voice, her experiences, mattered.

I am the rain that blackens the skies.

I am the ghoul in the lullabies.

I am the pain in an old man’s eyes.

I am the fools who portray themselves, wise.

I am the tears a young child cries.

I am the fears when a loved one dies.

I am the truth that is based upon lies.

I am the darkness that swallows the light,

I am the shadows that haunt the night.

I am the sorrow that grips me so tight,

I am the emptiness that fills with fright.

I am the wrong that claims to be right.

I am the blindness that takes one’s sight.

I am the despair that never leaves one alone.

I am the sad memories that linger and groan,

I am the coldness that seeps into the bone,

I am the whispering voice, the depressive moan.

I am the pride that keeps one away from home.

I am the weight that drags one down,

I am the darkness that wears the crown.

I am the pain that makes one frown,

I am the last straw, before the breakdown

I am the lonely when no one’s around.

I am the lost that will never be found,

I am the end of hope, the silent sound.

I am the thickness, the choke in the air

I am the clock counting down, in me, despair,

The destruction of youth, death in disguise.