Alone
My hopes and dreams fly away,
Whatever I do, I can't make them stay.
They slipped through my cold, hard hands,
Slipping through like ungrabbable sands.
All my big hopes drained through first,
After that, I felt cursed.
My dreams were the second to go,
I never felt so down and low.
Now I sit here with a pen,
Feeling hurt once again.
Tears fall down my sad face,
The pain I fought, I can't erase.
* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *
(A poem I wrote around November 9, 2006. I was 14)