Walking towards the bus stop
And think of what I became
I lower my eyes in sorrow
And hang my head in shame
My wrists are full of cuts
My long, black hair a frizzy mess
Each day I deal with conflict
My depression does progress
My father is abusive
My mother passed away
My sister and brother married early
It just is too cliche
With 10 dollars in my pocket
And a suitcase full of junk
I trip over the sidewalk
Into a boy I bump
His eyes are like topaz
His hair completely astray
He asks me with all seriousness
"Are you running away?"
So I tell my story to this stranger
I've never even met
Then I think to myself
'There's hope for me yet'
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