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"I Wanna..." I wanna cry, I wanna cease to exist, I'm so sick and tired of being teased. "The Light" When I die, I will see, "Why Am I Here?" Why am I here? "Tears" Fighting tears, Suicidal thoughts fill my empty mind, The pain sets in, Let me die, "Insanity" In my darkest moment of despair, I cry a lot. My mind is filled with fear, "Alone" As I sit here, I wait for the phone, I am depressed. "Stress" School's a pain. "Demons" Last night, People are so cruel, "Hate" This world hates me. So many people hate me. This world will not free me. "Trickling" Life is so confusing. Death seems imminent, I don't know where my mind is going, "Unexplained" Unexplained tears, Only death, All the tears, "Cruel People of the World" On this day, People tell me, "Free" Insanity, "Lost" My mind is lost, Security is lost, "Reality" I do not know where I am going in life. They say killing yourself is a sin. And if killing yourself is a sin, "Guilty" This guilty feeling, I don't have a lot of time, I'm tired of feeling, "Seeing Me" If you want to see me, But I just wonder, "Fears" So many tears, So many fears, "My Purpose" No need to wonder, Shed from my eye is a single tear, And although, "Holiday Feeling" Tears flow, Is it just me? "No One Nowhere" Laying in my bed, Only in death, So no one really does care. Had they only cared, "A Pair of Sixes" Left out in the cold, "Enslaved" Can I kill myself? I feel so guilty, "Please Answer Me" Lonely is I. Why have I survived? "Abuse" Will I see tomorrow? I'm so confused, "Being Dead" Things are said, "Who Cares? " Drowning in my own tears, Living with all these fears, "Craziness" Laughing through tears, "Desire For Change" I wanna go, "Losing" I sit up every night, I feel no need, "My Darkness Long nights, The clouds, "Losing Sight" Every day, Every night, "That Empty Feeling" Emptiness fills me, Guilt fills me, "The Lesson" Tears are commonplace, And as they move me, "That's Life" Confusion, "Confused" Living illusion, "Nothing" I try to cry, "Locked Up" As I run against padded walls, "The Bruise" Blacks, blues, "Brain Damage" I go to school, "Horror" Dead bodies, "Wondering" Looking down, "Faces" Through open spaces, Also through those spaces, On some faces, I see tears, On others, I only see wrinkles, But on several, I see nothing. And while I cannot make, "Confusion and a Dog" Confusion is a dog, Confusion is many things, Confusion is waking suddenly, Confusion is pain, "Fighting" It's unfortunate how we fight, I am sick and tired, A thousand men, "Tears of Sanity" Through the pouring rain, So there I am, "Misery" Lacking energy, "Shut Down" I'm tired. My heart is racing. "Depression" Laying in my bed, Depression is here "Falling" I fell again, The tears start falling, Death, "The Dark Hole" Somewhere, A dark hole, A dark hole, I know not how I sank, People call that dark hole, "Life is a Journey" For some, But for many, And for all, But despite those obstacles, "The Rain" Nature sounds, People run and squirm, "A Hole" Into a hole, A hole of no escaping, A hole of thoughts, "Seeing More" I see not triumphs, Because I see nothing, To see more, "Hatred" Hatred is an emotion, Hatred is a feeling, Hatred is a thought, "Need" Sometimes we need, Sometimes we need, Sometimes we need, "Night Fight" The darkness of night, Instead, He did not choose, It is not an easy battle, The pain is there, "Chasing Demons" All my life, Some have been, Some are living, Some of the demons, But regardless of kind, "Hidden" Hidden is the light, Hidden are the scars, Left unheard are his cries, Hidden is his needless guilt, "My Mind" My mind, My mind, My mind, My mind, My mind, But all in all, "Depressing Spring" Outside, But inside, Inside also lie, These are souls, "Different" In this world, These people, These people, These people, Given the above, But then again, Fact is, however, "I Am Me" I am someone, I am a person, I am someone, I am someone, I am someone, Simply put, "Poetry" Poetry is life. Poetry is an expression, "Poetry and Life" My life is one, My life, Poetry is music, "Prozac" Some time ago, Depression was nearly killing me, Then one day, So with one phone call, Therapy began, Some time passed, Soon I saw changes, The symptoms, So all in all, "Road to Recovery" Sometimes, But despite those, I refuse, I want to survive, "Stuck in the Middle" Stuck in the middle, This boy, On one side, But despite all, "The Wall" Society as a whole, And in the wall, Deeper within the wall, With the conformists, On the other side, Outcasts, Society as a whole, "The War" I express, Rather, It is a war, The battles, When those emotions, "Within Myself" Within myself, Within myself, But within that soul, However, "Broken Promises" Promises are made. And with broken promises, Promises that are seldom kept, And keeping promises, Knowing someone, We are all hurt, "Censored" Censorship is an issue, Censoring, Censorship, "Hunger" I have a hunger, I have a hunger, I have a hunger, I have a hunger, All in all, "I am a Poet" I am, I am a poet, And as a poet, Some people say, But for those, "Inspirations" Inspirations come, People even, People and things, Those people, "Missing Pieces" Life is full, And in our quests, And we,
I wanna die,
I wanna stop living this lie.
Because I am so pissed.
I'm so sick and tired of being dissed.
I really wanna be pleased.
I wanna be released,
From the pain of life.
And lie,
Flat on the ground,
And I am found,
Then they will finally see,
My way of ending,
My misery.
The eternal light,
Shine so bright,
For me.
Finally,
I am free.
Why must I constantly live in fear?
Why am I crying every day?
Why must I feel this way?
Why when I want to talk,
I don't know what to say?
What makes me feel this way?
So many questions will remain unanswered,
Even after my darkest day.
That I have bottled up,
All through the years,
The tears flow away,
With my fears.
As my teeth start to grind.
My conscious turns guilty,
And takes over my mind.
I feel filthy.
And I start thinking of a mortal sin.
I play the game of life,
But I never win.
So I no longer have to live this life,
This lie.
So live and let me die.
When I know not how to bear,
I sit back, dazed and confused,
And wonder why life is unfair.
Some times in places,
Where I should not,
But still, I cry a lot.
As my eye sheds its single tear.
I try hard to heal my pain,
But I fear going insane.
Alone,
And my conscious fills with fear,
I wait for my eye to shed its single tear.
To ring,
To assure me,
That I am not alone.
My thoughts repressed,
School has me so stressed.
There are so many teachers,
Who play with my brain.
Some are crazy,
While I am just lazy.
Most will drive me insane.
Some only exist now,
On memory lane,
But others still mess,
With my poor little brain.
I had a fight,
With myself,
Over whether or not,
To kill myself.
To me.
As I wonder,
When this world,
Will free me,
And Death himself,
Will see me.
It's slowly killing me.
It's a depressing world out there.
Only Death will free me.
And then, I will only be,
A memory.
Only I can free me.
I can bring the death of me.
For happiness,
I cannot see.
It's a game we are all losing.
The will to live vanishing,
It's all too confusing.
Even though it is so permanent.
There's a room,
Which holds my doom.
Or if it is slowing.
But I do know my face,
Is no longer glowing.
For soon, the blood will be flowing.
And I will be dead,
Without others knowing.
Unexplained fears,
Have haunted me,
Throughout my years.
Will end all these fears,
That have haunted me,
Though all these years.
I have shed,
Have me all,
Messed up in the head.
Why have I been tormented through all these years?
People told me,
To go away,
And they fail to see,
The pain they cause me.
To leave them alone,
Even though,
I am already alone,
And I ask,
"Why is it so?"
"Why have I sunk so low?"
Gives me,
A sense,
Of security,
A sense,
That I can be free.
But insanity,
Is only imaginary,
For me.
And filled,
With confusion,
About the illusion,
Called life.
And insecurity,
Is all I see.
And all I feel,
Is misery.
I do not know if I will ever have a wife.
Some people tell me I have no life.
But, actually, I have a life.
Which I can end with a knife.
But they do not know,
Where I have been.
They do not know,
I am not going to get the win,
In the game,
They call life.
Then what is verbal abuse?
And physical abuse?
If you put your mind,
To use,
You will find they are, too, a sin.
Has me crying,
And on the brink,
Of dying.
To think.
I just continue,
To sink.
So guilty,
I want to be free.
I want to be able to see,
The light.
Then walk right down,
To the cemetery,
For it is where,
I will forever be.
For in my life,
I could not see,
The happier side,
Of me.
Now can you see,
All the pain,
You caused me?
I just needed,
To be free,
So I, too, could see.
Represent so many fears,
So many fears,
That have taunted me,
Throughout my years.
Haunt me,
All these years,
And then come,
The tears,
From my eyes,
To wash away all fears.
Why I am here,
For I was put here,
To live in fear,
Throughout each and every year.
And I owe it all,
To all the fear.
I am not unknown,
To all the fear,
Fear is something,
I do not condone.
As the lights glow,
And I sit here,
Without any snow,
Feeling so low,
And lonely inside,
I wonder,
Why I haven't died,
Why they have always lied,
And why I have always cried.
Or was I not meant to be free?
Was the light not meant for me to see?
Maybe, I was not meant to be.
Maybe, I was not meant to see,
The light,
That will free me.
Nearly dead,
As thoughts race,
Through my head,
And things are being said.
But I cannot hear,
For I live,
In fear.
Do people really care.
And why do they sit and stare?
Why is life so unfair?
Why didn't they care?
Why?
Why do I cry?
Why do I want to die?
They don't realize,
When it's too much to bear.
And when that heart,
Begins to rip apart,
No one's there.
And not stared,
And not fought,
That future that seemed,
So far out,
Might have been.
Only to grow old,
And hope not to fold,
In the poker game,
Called life.
Yes, I can,
Kill myself,
But I lack,
The strength,
And the courage,
To kill myself.
So empty,
So unhappy,
So sad,
So bad,
And all I want,
Is to be free.
Why can't I die?
Why do I cry?
So many questions,
Only to remain unanswered.
Why have I lived?
Why do I need to know?
The glow,
Is already gone.
And soon,
I will be,
Gone.
Or will the world see tears of sorrow?
Tomorrow?
Like I've been used,
When really,
I've been of no use.
I can't stand all this verbal abuse.
And they make me think,
About being dead.
Is it really true?
Or is it all just in my head?
And I begin to sink.
And I get to the point,
Where I can't even think.
And a pool of hate,
Now they don't even care,
If I ate.
Through all these years,
And I still don't know where,
I am going.
But crying through fears,
It's all an anthem,
Of these crazy years.
To a better place,
And put a different face,
On my life,
And put away,
The knife.
Alone,
Chilled to the bone,
Trying to win this fight,
Called depression.
To be here,
And live in fear,
Not knowing how,
To bear,
When nobody's,
There.
And gruesome fights,
Cloud the bright lights,
That used to be.
Are all I see,
Even though,
All I want,
Is to be free,
And to be me.
I hurt.
Every day,
I flirt,
With death.
It's depression I fight,
With all my might,
But still,
Losing sight,
Of the world.
As the pain slowly kills me.
Emptiness fills me,
As the pills slowly kill me.
As I wait,
For something to free me,
And tell me,
I have won,
The fight,
And can now see,
The light.
As they roll down my face,
And I leave this world,
Without a trace.
To my final resting place,
I put a new face,
On suicide,
For I have died.
Creates an illusion,
In my now confused mind,
And I soon begin,
To live an illusion.
Living confusion,
Why must I feel like an intrusion?
Why must I deal with exclusion?
I kind of wonder,
How I've lived through all this,
Confusion.
But no tears,
Nothing at all,
But sometimes,
The tears,
Fall,
Like endless rain.
In my paper gown,
Wearing nothing more than a frown
The nurses run frantically,
Down the institution halls,
I finally know,
This is reality.
And that I am not free.
I am locked up.
And they threw away the key.
And light green,
Only color,
Any emotional bruise,
I've ever seen,
Living here,
As a depressed teen.
Every day,
Only to see,
My mind decay.
Lying on the floor.
Dying bodies,
Crying at the door.
Don't they know?
We can't take anymore.
We can't take anymore,
Of the horror.
At the ground,
Wearing a frown,
Wondering why I'm still around,
And not six feet underground.
Both narrow and wide,
I see many faces,
And the pain they hide.
I look at the faces,
Both near and afar.
Simply resembling fears.
Symbolizing years.
And although I see nothing,
I know the pain,
They are hiding.
Their emotional scars disappear,
I look to the sky above,
And shed my own tear.
Chasing its own tail.
Confusion is a dog,
Sounding its midnight wail.
Like after being underwater,
Only to hear the water,
As it sings.
In the middle of the night.
Confusion is wondering,
Why people fight.
And going insane.
Confusion is dancing,
In the rain.
By the shining moonlight.
Knowing it is wrong,
Only makes it more improper.
No matter how long,
It may last.
Of the fighting,
And how it happens,
Like a thousand firecrackers igniting,
In unison.
Fought and lost.
They lost.
They lost a war,
And many lost their lives.
Are my tears full of pain.
And despite the rain,
The pain still lies,
Deep within.
Standing in the rain,
Nearly dancing.
But still come those tears of pain.
But maybe,
It is those tears of pain,
That keep me sane.
Death hungry,
Sitting alone,
Shaking lightly,
Feeling guilty;
All that remains of me,
Living here in misery.
I'm weak,
Terribly afraid to speak.
But I know not what it is,
I am facing.
My head is aching.
But I know not,
What is happening.
Crying in my bed,
Watching the demons,
As they rush through my head.
And so is the constant fear,
The fear of crying,
The fear of dying.
And the depression set in,
As the fears slowly rush in.
And Death is silently calling,
The Death to which I will succumb.
Deep down inside my soul,
There lies a hole.
Of depression,
And guilt.
Full of tears,
A dark hole,
Full of crying.
A dark hole,
Filled of thoughts,
Of dying.
Into that dark hole,
But I wonder,
How it drilled,
Into my soul.
Depression,
But I call that dark hole,
An unfortunate imprint,
On my soul.
Life is a road.
For others,
Life is a path,
In the woods.
Life is,
And always will be,
A seemingly endless journey,
A journey,
I never want to end.
No matter how scenic,
The path,
Or how smooth,
The road,
There will always be,
Bumps in the road,
And fallen trees in the path.
They will be overcame,
And there will be,
Triumphs a many to cherish.
Its medley,
Of light,
And rumbling clashes.
Through the rain,
But I,
I cherish the rain,
And want to dance,
And sing,
In the rain.
I have fallen.
A hole,
Of depression and despair,
Is where I lie,
Weak and lifeless.
Is where I remain,
Struggling with the pain,
The pain,
Of life.
Purely of the pain we endure,
Entraps my mind.
A void,
Of confusion, uncertainty,
And insecurity,
Lies within.
Nor defeat.
I see not victories,
Nor retreat.
Bad nor good,
I see very little,
Of what I should.
Remains only a wish,
But I want to see more,
Before I perish.
So strong,
So confusing,
So misunderstood.
That entails many things,
Confusing.
Hatred is,
By no means,
Amusing.
Upon all I wish not.
Hatred is something,
That shall not,
Be forgotten.
A shoulder to cry on.
Sometimes we need,
A shoulder to lie on,
Sometimes we need,
Someone to talk to.
Sometimes we need,
Something to do.
Someone to heal,
Wounds that do not bleed.
Sometimes we need,
Someone to hold on to.
Sometimes we need,
To shed tears,
Tears that lack meaning.
To hear a soothing voice.
Sometimes we need,
To rearrange our thoughts.
Sometimes we need,
To pick our fights.
Sometimes we need,
Simply to be free.
Accentuated only by a lone street light,
At first,
A seemingly harmless sight,
But beneath the darkness,
Surfaces a fight,
But not your ordinary fight.
It is a fight,
Between a man,
A lonely man,
And his inner self,
His own demons,
His thoughts,
And his emotions.
This fight,
And his eyes are blind,
To the light.
This fight,
Lacks witnesses,
Lacks cameras,
And the media, too,
But that matters not.
Fighting demons,
Mixed emotions,
And fears,
Many of which are unexplained.
But as apathetic as the man is,
He cares not.
There have been,
Demons.
Violent,
And others,
Are very unreal,
So unreal,
They were imaginary.
And others live only,
In my nightmares.
I wonder,
Why,
Why they failed,
Failed to hear my screams.
Seem friendly,
But only until they reveal,
Their true,
Evil,
Identity,
And they first inflict,
Their wrath of misery.
And for some reason unknown,
I continue,
Continue to chase my demons.
At the end of the tunnel.
Hidden is a fight,
Between man,
And himself.
From his ordeal.
He hopes they do not come alive,
They seem so real.
Hidden are his tears,
Silent but screaming.
Hidden are his fears,
Beneath his falling tears.
For help.
Crying is his damaged soul,
For help.
Aching is his mind,
For love.
Aching is his heart,
For love.
Guilt so misunderstood,
Guilt that would be ended,
If he only could.
Is something,
So precious,
So beautiful,
And sometimes confusing.
Meanders throughout,
Its confines.
Contains my thoughts,
Some elaborate,
And others negligible.
Holds my feelings,
My emotions,
The happiness,
I feel,
And the sadness,
I endure.
Is sometimes kind,
But sometimes not.
Sometimes,
It lets me wander about,
And other times,
It keeps me under His wing.
My mind,
Is a key to me,
A key to who I am,
And a key to how I feel.
It is spring.
The atmosphere,
Is one,
Which is calming,
Calming like,
The day's bright sunlight,
Occasional soothing rains,
And calming,
Calming like,
The glimmering moonlight,
Of a brisk spring night.
Inside lie,
Souls,
Souls that are,
Lost and confused.
Depressed souls,
And souls,
That want,
Want to die.
Souls that need,
And souls that bleed,
Souls that need someone,
Or something,
Something to soothe,
Their unbearable pain,
And the emptiness,
The emptiness,
That surrounds them.
There are so many people,
So many people,
Who are sensually impaired.
In this world.
They see nothing,
And therefore,
Know little.
Are also deaf,
Deaf to what,
Is said,
And they are deaf,
Deaf to what they need,
What they need to hear.
Also because they fail,
Fail to hear,
Their knowledge,
Is miniscule.
Also feel,
Nothing,
No emotion.
Because they feel,
Nothing,
They are stolid,
Stolid to pain,
And unaffected,
By things,
Both physical,
And emotional.
I wonder,
Wonder if these people,
Are normal,
Or if,
They are of,
An alien race.
What is normal?
What is correct?
What is acceptable?
There is no 'normal,'
And there is no,
'Correct,'
In people,
For we are all,
Different.
Someone with,
A great personality,
And one who possesses,
Outstanding qualities.
I am me.
A person,
Who possesses,
Several philosophies,
Of the world.
I am me.
Someone with,
Great love,
But love,
That lies,
Only within.
I am me.
Someone,
Who possesses,
Freedom,
The freedom,
To express,
Myself,
And the freedom,
To write.
I am me.
Who is intelligent,
And someone,
Who is bright.
I am me.
I am me!
Poetry is simply,
Just another language,
Another language,
I speak.
An expression,
Of my feelings,
My emotions,
And my life.
One that is lived,
Not in days,
But in stanzas,
And in poems,
Because with poetry,
There are,
No rules,
And there are,
No schemes.
Is lived,
Not in hours,
Or even minutes,
But rather,
In lines,
Letters,
And spaces,
All on a page,
A page,
In a book,
A book,
That is also,
My life.
Music to my ears.
Poetry is the music,
That always calms,
My fears.
Poetry is the music,
That tends to dry,
My tears.
I was depressed,
Very depressed.
It lasted so long,
I almost thought,
It was normal,
But I knew,
Deep down inside,
It was not.
Nearly going to eliminate me,
But somehow,
I held on.
Someone heard my cries,
My cries for help,
Saw through,
My suicidal thoughts,
Saw through,
The pain,
And took action,
And that person,
I cannot thank more.
The road to recovery,
Was finally paved,
And I knew,
It would be,
A long, bumpy,
And winding path.
As did the much needed help,
And it did what was supposed to do.
It helped.
But the help never ceased.
Instead,
It only improved.
It improved,
Because of a pill,
A pill,
Of green and white.
Its active ingredient,
Is called fluoxetine
But I know it simply,
As Prozac.
Changes in my life,
And in my mood.
I was what I had always wanted,
But could not seem to obtain.
I was happy,
Happy for the changes.
Disappeared,
And flooded I was,
With happiness,
Not despair,
And suicidal ideation,
Nor great fears,
Nor emotional pain.
A small pill,
Of green and white,
Worked wonders for me,
And changed my life,
For the better.
I still cry.
Sometimes,
I still want,
To die.
Those flaws,
I refuse,
Refuse to succumb,
To the elements,
The elements of depression.
Because,
Because,
I want,
To survive.
And survive simply,
Because I,
I am on the road,
The road,
To recovery.
Of a fight,
Is a young boy.
Is confused,
And probably,
Frightened,
Frightened at the media,
The protests,
And a family,
His own family,
A family,
Divided.
Lies the government,
And the boy's father.
On the other side,
Lies another family,
One of aunts, uncles,
And of cousins.
The boy,
He remains,
Alone,
And stuck,
In the middle.
Is a wall,
But each aspect of society,
Accounts for only,
One brick,
One brick in the wall.
The parts to society,
The pieces of the puzzle,
Remain.
They remain,
Until they die.
They remain until,
They are eliminated,
Or are simply blown away,
Like a solitaire leaf,
A leaf on a breezy fall,
Afternoon.
There are many groups,
But of those groups,
Two stand out.
They stand out,
As opposites,
And as views,
Views of society,
Conformists,
And outcasts.
Come patterns,
Patterns clearly seen,
And patterns of a part of society,
That follows all the rules,
So easily seen,
The blind,
Can see.
You have outcasts,
A more confusing group,
More confusing,
Because alone
,Outcasts are confusing.
Are alone,
Alone in this society.
They group together,
To keep each other strong,
Through times bad,
And be there for each other,
Through times,
Of deep pain.
The wall,
Is a confusing place.
A philosophy,
A philosophy,
That,
Life is a war,
But not a war,
Of clashing enemies.
It is a war,
We all fight,
Together.
Of minds,
And personalities,
A psychological war.
Are not between armies,
But rather,
Conflicting thoughts,
And of waves,
Waves of emotion.
Collide,
Tensions rise,
And real wars,
Those where,
People are involved,
And real lives,
Are lost,
Arise.
Lies a poetic mind.
Within myself,
Lies a lost soul.
Within myself,
Lies a confused mind.
Within myself,
Lies a soul,
Tarnished.
And my mind,
Lies brilliance.
Within myself,
Is a mind,
One that is philosophical.
Within myself,
Is a kind soul.
Lies a hole,
A hole,
Symbolizing the past,
And the pain,
My soul,
Has endured.
Despite all pain,
And weakness,
I strive,
Strive to remain,
Strong,
For it is,
Within myself.
Some are kept,
But often,
Often others are broken,
Broken like a windshield,
On Friday the Thirteenth.
Come people,
Furious people,
People full of anger.
Are kept close,
Close like under a bird's wing,
And believe me,
There's nothing closer.
Well, it ain't easy.
It's hard.
Someone who keeps promises,
Ain't easy either,
Unless,
Unless there is a trust,
A trust between two people,
A bond so special.
Hurt by promises,
Promises broken,
Broken like dreams.
An issue,
That I loathe,
Loathe to discuss.
Hurts us all.
It hurts authors,
Authors of censored work,
And it hurts,
Our children,
Children who should,
Read banned books,
And learn,
Of why,
Why they were banned.
In itself,
Is a crime,
A crime,
Against society,
A crime,
Against people,
And a crime,
This world,
Does not have,
To endure.
A hunger for life,
And a hunger for peace,
A hunger for tranquility.
A hunger for freedom,
And a hunger for time,
Time alone.
A hunger for death,
And a hunger for relief,
Relief from the pain,
The pain of life.
A hunger for depression,
A depression so low,
It will end,
With my own death.
I have many hungers,
Hungers for things,
Good and bad,
And hungers for things,
Eccentric and real.
A person,
A person,
With a brilliant mind,
But more so,
I am,
A poet.
A poet who possesses,
Many ideas,
Ideas both new,
And old.
I write,
I write of my,
Ideas,
Ideas controversial,
Disputed,
And ideas,
Ideas that are,
Agreed upon.
They like,
My poetry,
And others,
Others say,
They disapprove,
Of It.
Those who disapprove,
I ignore,
And ignore them I do,
With great pride.
In many forms.
Everything,
From nature,
To a solitaire picture,
Hanging on a wall,
Can be of inspiration.
Can inspire,
Other people.
They can inspire them,
To write,
Or to do things,
Things they would,
Otherwise not do.
Have always seemed,
Seemed to be,
Of inspiration,
Of inspiration to me.
And things,
Cause me,
To ponder,
Ponder what,
What to write,
Or what,
To do.
Full of pieces,
Pieces both present,
And missing.
And all through,
Our lives,
We are on a search,
An expedition to find,
Find the missing pieces.
We find,
Things unpleasant,
In the mix,
The mix of pieces.
As people,
Are pieces,
Pieces to a puzzle,
And with absence,
We are,
Missing pieces.
Main
The Beatles
Body Language
My POV on Dress Codes
Suicide Prevention
My POV on In-School Suspension
More Poetry
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© 1997 lennonluv@hotmail.com
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