I Am.
I am a poet writing of my pain.
I am a person living a life of shame.
I am your daughter hiding my depression.
I am your sister making a good impression.
I am your friend acting like I'm fine.
I am a wisher wishing this life weren't mine.
I am a girl who thinks of suicide.
I am a teenager pushing her tears aside.
I am a student who doesn't have a clue.
I am the girl sitting next to you.
I am the one asking if you care.
I am your best friend hoping you'll be there.
Can The Young Go Insane?
Dreams speak words to me, in a foreign language i fail to see.
A sense of panic and urge to run, Outside the night-time has begun.
Look up at the stars, at the clouds in the sky, see the sign and wait to die.
Terror and nerves, all confusion and despair, shapes in the clouds, an arrow to nowhere.
Please hear, somebody help me, for i fear I'm losing my sanity....
Can the young go crazy? Can I lose my mind?
Help, help, help, i cannot hide, inescapable are voices that whisper inside...
The young can go crazy, and it may easily be...Could it really? I think its me.
Just a Door.
Do you ever think of the day when our world changed.
When our emotions, once strong as a brick mansion, crumbled.
And through the debris and chaos, there stood a door, alone.
I remember when i locked that door, I'd watch it day after day, obsessed.
I wanted it to stay, that door, as a reminder of what was, yet lost.
But the winds of tomorrow, and the rain of yesterdays tears battered it, rotted it.
What was once a bold reminder, now just a rotted piece of the past, diminishing.
Broken nails and hinges taunt and jeer, threatening to resurface pain, torture.
I want it to survive, yet want it gone, this insignificant piece of us, a deadened tree.
Before it dies, before time goes on, come, knock, demand an answer, I'll unlock.
