Mon, 01/26/2015 - 02:13 -- Green's


I hang around In this room I pretend that I own,
I feel so ungreatfull for the life I've been thrown,
and the friends I have grown,
In a house full of homies and I still can't help feeling alone,
understood… but unknown,
a life I choose in good health,
to protect me, from myself, I need help!
And I wake up confused and mentally bruised,
because I do the same thing that do,
everyday its the same,
and I hold it back, show no rage,
although I feel like I'm sleeping in a cell as a slave,
and stupid me, here I am wondering why all of this has happened,
asking were everyone went when I'm the one who unfastened,
but I still feel as though there is a place for my madness,
a home when I have less,
and one day when I have used all my pain,
and am upon the last ounce of stress,
I know I will have nothing to look down on,
but an ocean of bliss.


Additional Resources

Get AI Feedback on your poem

Interested in feedback on your poem? Try our AI Feedback tool.


If You Need Support

If you ever need help or support, we trust CrisisTextline.org for people dealing with depression. Text HOME to 741741