Category : Poems

Sub Category : N/A

I’m walking down the street 
I see crowds of people 
All different 
All unique 
And I wonder 
What’s their story?
What things have they been through?

I’m sitting in a restaurant with my family 
While my brother goes on and on about his new beyblades 
Especially the ones with odd names
When I may hear a little snippet of someone’s conversation 
Maybe they’re talking about the new toy they got their dog 
Or how their son got accepted into his dream college
Or maybe their chatting about their boyfriend/girlfriend 
And I think 
What’s their day to day like

Sometimes I’m lying in bed
And I think 
There are different time zones 
So I wonder 
What’s someone doing where they live?
Are they sleeping in bed like me 
Or still gong through their day

On my birthday I think
There is 7.6 billion people on earth 
Thousands of kids being born every hour 
How many people out their share a birthday with me? 
If they do
Are they celebrating their birthday 
Do they have a family to celebrate their birthday with? 
How old are they turning

So many people in this world 
And for every single one 
I wonder 
What’s their story?
What the reason am behind their actions?
What’s the reason for their words or ridicule?
Why do they hate something?
Or why do they love something
Sometimes when I catch being ungrateful 
Because I’m not ashamed to admit that I’ve been ungrateful at times 
I remind myself that 
I’m Priveliged 
I have things others don’t 
Things others would love 
I should value those things 
Because if I don’t there are probably 
Hundreds of others that would treasure the things I have 

Ever since I was little
My parents have taught me 
To think before I speak
It was always an easy thing for me
I was naturally quiet even when I was a toddler 
If I had an opinion on something and wanted it known I’d make it known 
If what I was thinking was offensive 
Unimportant 
Or unrelated to the current situation 
It stayed in my head for my ears only 
Maybe I’d make that thought known days hey even weeks later 
When that thought actually needs to be said 
But not everyone will think before they speak
Because my parents weren’t their parents 
My life isn’t their life 
And it makes me wonder even more 
What’s their story?