“This generation!”
they say.
These are words
I’ve heard them use
to describe you.
And sometimes I have too.
But it’s a mistake.
They don’t know. They don’t see
how you race
through the woods,
leaping and laughing
as children should.
They don’t see you uplift,
how you offer
your hand
when someone has fallen.
They don’t see you
cheer on your friends
to the bitter end.
They don’t know
that you just want
to be loved
and accepted
and cherished
and known.
They don’t know
that you are fighters.
They don’t know
that you are strong.
They don’t know
that they have