Quick Sand

Stability wasn't a thing I would have known

But it got better as I had grown

I thought it was the reason that I cried

But it's really because of my sadness inside

What am I supposed to do

When all I really have is you

And I'm telling you that you don't understand

So you get mad and won't take my hand

I walk by myself through these thick woods

Of things that are bad, more shouldn'ts than shoulds

I feel like I'm sinking when you dont take my hand

As if all that I have is becoming quick sand

This poem is about: 
Me

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