This is for you,
whoever you are,
whoever you'll become.
Because even if you can't say "I'm this, or I'm something,"
you'll never be nothing,
you're already something.
It'll shine to the world, or it won't,
after all, the world is so blind.
They believe nothing but their eyes.
But some of us see,
some of us know,
we watch, scowl, scream, and hope as you grow.
You grow far too fast,
you see the hurt we try to hide,
get chided when you cry...
It doesn't make you weak to hurt,
there's nothing wrong with having to search,
you're who you need to be.
Sure I'd like to smack you,
to tell you to grow up,
but you will, and the world will be better for it.
I know you probably don't want this,
poetry and I are so not your scene,
but sometimes these things need to be said and seen.
You are loved, if not always understood,
you will always be supported, no matter what you do,
because you're my baby brother, and this is for you.