I am filled with lost hopes and dreams

and confusing words, lines, pages

what does this mean?

I'm still in the process of adding words

still trying to figure out this thing called "Life" 

from everything that I've heard 

This process is crazy, stressful

overwhelming

all of that and then some more

I just only wish I wasnt alone

hoping that someone walks through that door

stares directly at me and smiles

opens the hardcover, filps through the pages

and still reads even learning of my sadness

knowing that makes me happy

my pages begin to fill with joy

Just the thought of someone understanding 

all what I've been through

I know that I'm not alone

Its not just me too. . .

Yet

the joy slips, fades away

the pages turn dark, grim and gray

and im just another book

collecting dust, lost hopes and dreams

for another day.