By Felecia B. Facey

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Young people can take the world by storm. I hope we will one day be able to live without that burdensome fear of the clock stopping before our time.

Young bones grow weary like a plant 
Withers slowly when starved of sunlight. 

Young bones struggle like a fish 
Plucked from a blue lagoon to lay on rough pavement.

Young bones break like glass slipping from  
Hands after hearing devastating news.

Young bones need calcium.
Milk helps with that.

Young bones need validation, 
cures for contamination.
Plagued by the previous generation.
What will help with that?

I feel unworthy when
Young bones get buried daily.
Boys and girls have died too early.

Process

This poem started in my notes app and was to be titled “How Young Bones Grow Weary.” Originally supposed to be a list poem with the repetition “young bones grow weary.” However, I got into the rhythm of something else and realized I wanted it to be more. Young bones grow weary; they also struggle, break, and splinter. I wanted to write about this topic because I was thinking about all the reports I’ve heard of young people dying. I am overwhelmed by these stories, especially when they frequently pop up on my social media pages.

I was also thinking about what I’m doing with my life. There are so many young people doing brilliant things at my age, in spite of the adverse. I can’t help but think: “Am I doing my best to live up to my full potential?” In comparison, they seem more persistent in pursuing opportunities; I am hindered by overthinking, expressed in the last stanza: “Sometimes, I feel unworthy.” The lines “young bones need calcium/milk helps with that” I was thinking of the things that can tangibly help with the physical growth of bones. Those two lines were short and sweet, representing a correlation between what young people go through and what they need; their needs often go unfulfilled, for instance, the support of the older generations. Unfortunately, not everyone has an adult in their lives who they can count on or look to as a role model. I sometimes hear older generations condemning younger generations. They fail to realize their role in how we were raised. So I asked: “What are the cures for this contamination?” I wonder how to get past blaming each other. How to work together to fix the broken systems that plague us all. I hope to arm myself with knowledge. I want to create solutions. I want to make the world better so that others may grow.