We are all entitled to dream and desire this is my dream and there is nothing more I desire, this is what keeps me forever aiming higher

Today’s youth are constantly portrayed negatively by the media. The time has come to change that. I can change that. We have been trapped in society’s prison cell for way to long. Even songbirds deserve their freedom, the freedom they don’t get, is the freedom our voices will never know the meaning of… if we together hand in hand, don’t take a stand and show the courage to grab this once in a lifetime chance to make a change in not only our lives but the lives of those around us. 

Some people know from the day they are born what path they want to take as they maturate through their lives. I am one of them. To become someone they look up to  would be me over coming yet another obstacle in life; creating another stepping stone to help me waltz across the aggressive, truanting river of existence itself. As a young member of society, I sincerely doubt there will be anyone else in today's world that would devote as much time to changing the lives of adolescents as I am willing to. Being a teenager myself, not only means I know what is going on through the minds of other teens such as myself. It also means... I can ask why, without saying the word. I can dig for deeper meaning. I can cause the bigger picture to hide no more. I can view the bigger picture. It also means I will be able to approach those thoughts in an appropriate manner without reaching the stage of interrogation. Becoming a Young Member of Parliament would mean I would be able to make a change. 

I have a gift. I have a gift in writing, and I believe it’s time to get my words heard because the words spoken by my pen have trapped in the ears of paper for too long. If I am to make a change, then those words will need to be heard by the nation.

I have a dream.
I have a dream that everyone will be accepted for who they are and not for who they are not. The deception and hatred that Martin Luther King Jr. fought so hard against still consumes us today. Nations dropping bombs and chemical gases still fill the lungs of little ones. But ever prime minister who has ever got elected has promised us one thing. One thing they still haven’t fulfilled. Peace. But it’s not entirely their fault. They can’t achieve something so grand alone. We have there by their side. We have to be there to help.

Just like Martin Luther King we have to have dreams.

I have a dream.
I have a dream that everyone will be accepted for who they are and not for who they are not.
I have a dream that I will be part of a community that will fight for world peace.
I have a dream that united we will stand.
It all starts with one.
I am that one.
And that is why I am taking a stand and offering the nation my hand.
This is the gate way to my dream and our future.

Where there is hate there has to be love right? When things get hard get up and dust your self off right? But what if you are the one wanting to let go of everything and everything and everyone just want the best for you so they dont want to let you give up- though I miss 'Our Dark Love' I think its better not to care anymore- 'Our Dark Love'/ 'My Dream'

He said ‘put your trust in someone who cares for you’. I don’t think he knew, after the last one and these past few years, trust from my heart, his absence withdrew. Torn from deep within the beating organism that keeps my body fully functioning. I am, but no-one has a clue. His admirable love still pains me like a deliberately built in thorn that refuses to escape ones’ corpse even when the fight is with life itself. His love built me up only to knock me back down to the person I was before him and am today.

Even then, trying to replace my near enough but further than the most distant universe love for him, well... it has deemed itself impossible. How can I forget him when he gave me so much to remember? It’s not possible; it would be like me forgetting I exist. Can I forget that I exist? No. I cannot. I will not. I refuse to. For then if I was to dismiss the memory of my existence I may as well be dead.

With every breath I take, every word I say, every promise I make... I remember. Every face, sound, song, poem and story carries with it a new born baby of a different memory. A memory of him, a memory of his affection, a memory of us lingers in every corner, not to mention dark bends are completely occupied with the memories we made together and the things we wrote up in history.

Despite all that reminds me, I still find myself battling, to erase his definition. A definition of him. Struggling to erase a definition of a handsome, kind-hearted, warm and loving devil from my nature. But life has other plans for us...

Hackney is a cruel and rough mistress and we are living in her. Her word is final. It always is always has been. She never rests until the battle is won and the war is over. She doesn’t give a Juliet the chance to think about leaving her Romeo let alone the opportunity to forget someone so tender completely or at all in fact. I remember when I was young she spoke to me in my deem as I fell into a deeper sleep than sleeping beauty one night, she said ‘you my dear, will fall in love once again, and you will want to walk away, but I will not let you, not this time and not forever more because he is the one for you’ when I arose from my slumber her words were no longer discoverable in my dormitory it was as if nothing had ever happened and then a whisper deeper than that I had heard in my dreamwrold  ‘no matter what, now sleep tight my young one, no matter what’ but there was no-one in the room... I was only thirteen at the time I didn’t understand but now I think that may be the only reason no matter how hard I try, I find myself grasping onto something that has flown out of my reach. Hackney maybe the only cause for the bitter frost and muscle cramping winters, or at least those of which have been spent where my life set its scene.

But then why does the blue blood from deep within our two families often tare our shared hearts apart by pulling the opposite ends too much, applying pressure to our devastatingly fragile hearts, in the place I call my home, the only place I feel home, the only place I am at home...Hackney. My Hackney.

Sometimes your heart holds on to things your mind wants to throw away so you find that no matter what you do, you always seem to remember despite you not wanting to 'I Don't Remember, But I Do'

I don't remember that I love you

I don't remember that I want you

I don't remember that I need you

I don't remember writing the love letters you have

I don't remember my heart skipping a beat at the sound of your voice

I don't remember missing you every second of the day

I don't remember when I love you is all I want to say

I think we played a game...

And I think I lost 

I think that is why I am faced with the bills and struggling to pay the cost

I don't remember your beautiful face 

I don't remember your mesmerizing eyes 

I don't remember when you became my hobby

I don't remember your voice 

I don't remember when we first spoke 

I don't know if you exist 

Because... 

I don't remember us 

Did we ever exist?

The one thing you said might remember.

I have forgotten.

I don’t remember how you made me feel

I don’t remember your touch

I don’t remember anything given by us two

I don’t remember our history

Without any history there cannot be present or future

I don’t remember the messages

I don’t remember those all night chats

I can’t access them even if I tried

I don’t remember my password

I don’t remember my name being tattooed on your arm

I don’t remember having a tattoo of you

I don’t remember you laughing

I don’t remember you crying

I am not sure if I know you sleeping

I don’t remember your comfort

I don’t remember the arguments

I don’t remember the break-ups

I don’t remember your birthday

I don’t remember what love is

I can’t remember if I ever knew what it truly meant

I don’t remember when you said anything

I don’t remember your support

I don’t remember if or when you put me down

I don’t remember if the heart I control ever broke

I can’t remember telling you I will forever remember

I am the brain inside the person outside.

If all I don’t remember has happened

I don’t think I was call upon during this time
But, I can remember

I remember the night you asked me to be yours

I remember your kiss

I remember what love is

I remember your beautiful face

I remember your mesmerizing eyes

I remember when I first saw you

I remember how I felt

I remember your last words to me before all of this

I remember the dreams we shared

I remember the cuts that were made

I remember my name on your arm

Never will I forget your sweet words

I don’t need to remember I miss you

Because I can simply feel it

I remember where you were on our big night

The sound of our song is ever so melodious inside me

I remember your first words in my ear

I remember when we had to hide

I remember when we touched

I remember your hands through my hair

I remember your head on my lap

I remember the way I cried

I remember when you cried

I remember the dreams

I remember our arguments

I remember break-ups

I remember two hours

I remember three hours

I remember waiting for you to come down

I remember the sunset

I remember our first valentine’s day

I remember the tenderness of your voice

I remember gazing in to your eyes for hours

I remember every hug

I remember every heart beat

I remember every breath

I remember every footstep

I remember because I am the heart

I was in control of it all

Have you ever looked deep within only to find yourself asking 'When'

When?
I don’t want to know when
don’t you understand
I need to know when
so when?
when will I know
when will it all become crystal clear
when will I push you away and hate for you to be near
when did it all happen
when did they take you in
when will you be let out
and when can we begin
I ask...
when?
I hate you
I despise you
but
I miss you?
I love you?
And somehow,
somewhere
deep within my heart
I need you?
I want you?
When did this all start
when will I have the power to make it begin
when will God answer my prayers and free you of your sin
when will this all end and we go back to our creator...
him.