I don't know if I regret meeting you or not.
Your complicated, and have done nothing but confuse me, like a pomegranate.

And you've been cut up and dissected by horrible, horrible people. Only to be thrown in the bin and found by me.

You've been through so much
And desperately want a human connection, but we both know that's impossible because you are a pomegranate.

And you will always be one.

Yet you still reach out,
And you always get hurt

There's nothing beautiful about you.
In your search for real connection,
You've been repetitively used and abused.
Hoping that this one will be the one,
Only to be forgotten on the kitchen counter.

Wronged by the ones you called friends,
Let down by the system,
Forgotten by your parents,
Beaten and ****** by the very country meant to uplift you.

There is nothing poetic I can write about your suffering.
A wretched and rotting thing
Stumbling through life with a string of hope, fading day by day.

Awkward and hunched in the corner,
I know all you want to do is die.

I know there's nothing I can do,
I can't be your savior.
No matter how much I want to be,
You will always be a pomegranate
Who deserved so much better.

If I truly am the only one you have left
And no matter how much I try
You won't make it?
Then so be it.

But I will not let you be forgotten.

I will preserve your memory in the poems I write, the artwork I make, the snow in winter because you hate summer, or the German songs that remind you of home.

Because you're just a kid
And deserve to be remembered for how strong you've been.
Because the system that claims to help
Has failed innocent children, like you.
And left your abusers free to roam wild.

But tonight you are alive,
And that is all I can ask for and hope that you continue to live on even if you're just a pomegranate.

One day I woke up,
and I wasn't six anymore.

I was thirteen and losing myself.

I was thirteen and crying on the bathroom floor, because my mother tried to **** herself.

I was thirteen and losing myself in whatever hobby I picked up to distract. Or drug diagnosed to fix my act.

I am thirteen and learning how cruel the world is.
A dictator in the "land of the free."
Children, my friends dying so young.
Dying because the world doesn't care.

I am thirteen and terrified for the future.
Worried I'll still live with my parents like a moocher, because our economy is in shambles.
Worried I might be attacked because of who I love.

I am thirteen and still learning,
Learning just how cruel the world is.

Is our world still great?
When children are obsessed with the sheen of the blade?
Hitting vapes like their life depends on it?
Or starving themselves because the toxic standards TIKTOk promotes?

No one cares to keep the coming ruin at bay.
Our children's future is already gone, since we are only worried about a trend posted today.

Me and all the other children who woke up to go to school one days future's have been stolen.
Stolen by the same people who promised to protect us.

Is this really what we wanted?
Our children's futures to be ruined, just because greedy dictators are at war with each other.

And no one will listen
Because we're just "dumb teens."