I was blessed enough

to be brought up

in a home, and not a house.

To have loving parents whom I could tell

whatever, whenever.

To be met with a hug and a smile,

instead of a slammed door

by my sister whom I love so.

To have a brother, oh, so small,

in my adolescence,

and he reminds me to play,

when at this age you can go astray.

To be taken to Church,

to feel God all around,

to trust His plan,

to live by His Word,

to know that whatever happens,

I still g0t someone

to cry on their shoulder,

to tell them my dreams,

to know they will forgive me when

I crash and burn,

and to celebrate me when

I do something well. 

I was blessed enough 

to dream without being a laughing stock,

to be cherished, not tolerated,

to know that when I'm losing sleep it's because

of make-believe things the darkest depths of

my brain came up with,

and not because someone I should love,

is simply an acquaintance.

I was blessed enough 

to have an amazing family,

to know that when school gets tough, 

I can safely cry,

to grow up in a house

where I could dream, and play, and be whatever,

to know that I am loved by God,

to know that I'm loved by my family.

I was blessed enough to know

that I am loved, unconditonally.