I wrote this when I was 19 years old. I think it was titled Dreams, but am not 100% sure.
A young girl with dreams. She’s smart, beautiful and believes in herself. That girl was meant to be a somebody someday. But somewhere along the way someone took her dreams and placed them out of her reach. Although she can remember what they are, she can’t remember how to make them come true.
The girl becomes a young lady. She cries each night, longing for the days of dreams and wishing on stars, still trying to reach them. Each day they seem further away and the obstacles seem too great to overcome. She has little faith in herself. She needs praise for every deed. Living life has become an unwelcome chore, it used to be a gift given by God.
Where did her dreams go? When did they become so distant? Who took them away? She is desperately trying to believe that they are still there, but she just can’t be sure.
She may never get them back. She may always live without the knowledge of how much she’s really worth. Her many talents will go undiscovered because she’ll convince you they don’t exist.
Don’t let her deceive you, search for yourself. Maybe you’ll find those dreams and show her that they are not out of reach, but waiting, patiently waiting for her to believe in herself again. If she can believe in herself, she’ll believe in the greatness of her dreams and she’ll know that dreams can hide, and they can change, but they can’t die if we don’t let them.
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