No one knows when she built a wall,

every word, pick; true or false.

She's trained in her craft, all through the years.

Started doing it for fun, now a way to hide the tears.

Used to taste like venom, felt like poison to her ears.

now she does it with ease, says the lies no one hears.

Pours out, like rain on glass.

So transparent, holds herself with poise and class.

Despises, how easily it comes,

told before her nerves can even think what she's done.

I loom at her shoulder,

counting how many lies she's told.

Tallying how many times I've lost against her hold.

Yet she is me, I am her in the end.

Brought her here, she does what I can't pretend.

In the end it's all me,

so how could I hate the liar that saved me from this reality.

Dusted and broke, under the bed they lay.

Years untouched, but every scratch had a story to play.

Bled more then once, scuffed up more then twice.

Master those skates, or die trying at that fight.

Upgrades made, new styles to try,

but the firsts were always the ones to come back to every time.

Total wipeouts, frustrated cries,

yet in it all there was a feeling of freedom with no surmise.

Felt every thick wind, every drop of rain,

every grain of dust that would come my way.

Faster then runners, felt so far.

laughter brought from nothing, anything else was subpar.

Yes, if those skates could speak, they'd have alot to say.

They were the first to take me on those adventures,

inspired stories I write to this day.

I'm tired,

I always say it.

To the point where I don't know when I even am.

I'm tired,

but I can't sleep.

Cause the moment I lay down,

the weight of my thoughts overpower me.

I'm tired,

pass it off as a joke.

Cause I don't wanna worry those around me,

have them avoid me when they need me the most.

I'm tired,

but I don't wanna be put to rest.

Just not feel, not think.

But still be happy at best.

I'm tired,

I say it's insomnia,

but I know it's more than that.

I dont wanna admit it, I just know I can't.

I'm tired...just so tired of it all.

That even the happiest moments are only seconds all gone.

The years go by with the summer sun,

winter snow and autumn leaves.

And with that so do we.

Growing like trees from little seeds,

into ones with maple leaves.

We watch as our clocks tic,

counting every second that won't come back.

Not realizing how much it was worth

or how we’d cherish it far along the track.

Not giving a care,

or thinking much of it.

Because we were kids,

and there was nothing else to it.

Hoping to be pretty was never a worry, 

no putting on a personia,

we’d be ourselves without a hurry.

Out the door wearing whatever we had, 

not caring what other people thought or if we looked bad.

We were all juvenile then,

eyes full of hope,

Then slowly we were opened to the cruel world,

now finding ways to cope.

The good days were spent,

the memories made.

But like the seasons and all things,

the world had us change.

Some for the good, some for the bad,

and some just lived under the standards they had.

Reality hit like rapid fire, 

where we no longer knew what we desired.

Problems came one after another 

like rain pouring down,

Soaking us till some of us thought we would drown.

The change was immersed,

so was our view,

no longer seeing the world like we used too.

Our futures were being decided,

school was getting tough.

No time for distractions,

or nonsense stuff.

Had been told ‘the world is our oyster’

to do anything we put our minds to,

Now trapped in the system,

told to be what they shape us into.

We go against our peers, wanting to go back.

To turn the clock, just like that.

Like a tv film that never really ends,

replay all the good parts again and again.

But it isn't that easy, life never is.

So in our generation we live with so many ’what ifs'.

Stuck to our phones,

talking to friends.

On social media all day,

trying to keep up with the trends.

Make our families proud,

be what they want to see.

And the dreams we had as kids,

seem like blissful fantasies.

Once told people of our problems,

now we cry behind closed doors,

scared to be judged.

Cause if we’re not perfect in this world,

we’re broken glass tainted and smudged.

We are said to be the leaders of tomorrow,

but how do we change a world that's already so low.

To bring hope, to do what's right.

How do we put up such a big fight?

When our generation is so damaged and bruised,

We’ve seen so much,

ignored even when we called out more than we should've had too.

Where’s all the innocence, where’s our voice.

We’re scared to ask for help like that isn't a choice.

The future is ours, yet so far.

So no matter what, we must stand on the bar.

Keep our heads up, hide the tears.

For we are our generation, broken but here.