Help Me

Pearly white clouds died red,
by the setting sun.
The mountains rise up against the sky.
The gorgeous green clashing with the brilliant red sky.
The moon peaking over the snow capped peaks.
Why is this beauty lost on me?
A simple answer I will soon tell.
Because of my depression of being somewhere new.
Because of my deeply burning desire for somewhere old.
Pray for me,
Help me,
to get over this yearning for somewhere old.
But first,
tell me why is this beauty lost on me?

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Now you know why i don't write much poetry! I wrote this because i was bored, now you can tell me just to write short stories
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