I had a poem once..
wrote it all down just to feel alive...
lost all track of time while I wrote
hours passed by hell maybe even days
I was pouring myself onto notebook paper
all my thoughts, all my fears, all of me
I did it for me and no one else
I didn't do it for lost love, I didn't do it for you to think I was cool
this one was for me
all the shit that's been goin on all around me
the arguements, the sickness, the depression, the lonely bareness of life in a home without love
I sat down today and wrote it all
never did I believe I could be so honest and true
free from all the weight, I was at peace
and as I crumpled it up to throw it away I felt safe
no one will see the real me
there will never be a book published to explain me
so my poem, my one true testamony is gone now
I once wrote a poem, so honest that I couldn't yet face it
but I wrote it and for a moment I felt alive
