This was the first thing I wrote on prose and even though it's not much of a poem, I wanted to show it to the people that didn't see it when I posted it the first time.

We are put on this earth but for what, what are we supposed to do what are we supposed to be.

What is are meaning to life?

Then you look up to the sky or over a lake or upon a mountain and you see your purpose.

Your purpose is to see the Beauty On this earth we live to hear the wonderful song of laughter of birds singing in the trees the trees swaying in the wind. The meaning of life is all around us but you don't truly see it until you truly look for it that is the meaning of

LIFE.

All the pages I've written,

burned in the fire place.

I have no memory of what they carried.

Words and long nights scribbled to my work.

I've burned them all,

in fear of being laughed at.

I am seventeen, and I've started writing just three weeks ago, from stories to prose and everything else...