Not a path in sight.

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Status: Finished  |  Genre: Poetry  |  House: Booksie Classic
I wrote this when i was in a dark place at the age thirteen. it seems those years were somehow my darkest writings.

Submitted: May 11, 2013

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Submitted: May 11, 2013




I stand in the woods
Its dark and the wind is brisk
All I see are trees 
How did I get here?
I used to be in a meadow
Full of flowers red and purple
the animals speak of me 
they say I don't belong
they snicker
I'm alone in here
I begin to run
Swerving this way and that
Wanting to turn back the hands of time
I miss that meadow
I lose my way
Am I running in circles?
I cant see a way out
I crumble to my knees
I weep
Isolation descends over me
Could this be my fault?
What did I do back there,
in the meadow
How did iIend up here?
I claw at the ground 
I cant think 
I've forgotten the way back
If I ever knew it in the first place.

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