Look happy, like they are

in love. Love is sculpted not just there, carved 

And muscled.

When they look into

Each other's eyes I see hope, something

so solid.

Like a million stars, like they can reach something 

A million miles away. I can tell their love is true.

Are unimportant. But they are.

And were purposely carved.

And muscled.

To this world to make it into.

Something its not but something.

That's going to be solid.

 And something.

Something that's going to be true.

Now banned off of the app store, my

life is incomplete. My father

says “What is Fortnite?”, while my mother says

“Good, you fell hard

for that silly game”. Now all I have left is school work

to comfort me. This is

the end of my happiness. The

day I’ll see “#1 Victory Royale” is no longer real. Fortnite was the clay

that molded my future dreams 

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I look through the lens of a scope

that has a limited view of

the world. I have a new hope

that we will join together or

share the same dreams

as of those before us. I

want us to be like those who have

corrected our wrongs and become a

momentous right.

They no longer a chef? Nay, they are Molded

From the mistakes made in the journey. From

The goals along the way. Does the Brain think this way?  Yes

Brains are the most critical beings known. They are Molded

To nitpick, to obsess.  Yet in Dreams

Their checks and criticism don’t come. Do

They realize that their dreams and reality are the same, that there is  Not 

A fundamental change? Seemingly, when mistakes exist, embrace them as they Come.

I knew I was an Accident.

My dad didn't know Of

My Birth.

At least that's what he said Or

He could have been lying to get ahead in a Race

He was running with my mother. Or

It's because he always wants an excuse for why he’s stuck in 2nd Place.

What he does now determines 

What I will remember about him in the…