When life Sucks

“Just write,” they say.

My forehead thumps down upon my desk.

Words, unwritten words coarse through my veins. Words of guilt, of why my generation is leaving a tainted world to my children and future generations. Words of anger, words I hesitate to share.

“Do NOT write about politics: ever!” They say.

My finger tips brush the key board.

I write. I write about the sparkle of sunlight as it peeks through the tree tops, about the glimmer of hope pushing me forward. I write.