Untitled of course

The ironic thing about my diary is the word "believe" on it's front cover

It's detailed in life's hue- green- with flowers and vines creeping over

Though it's filled with many dreams

It's filled with twice as many screams

Tears that rumpled up page seams 

Anxiety over tuition and wages, tables are sprawled on it's back side

Add and divide the meaning of my life

Future financial strife, relationship rife with change

Every year I'm cutting the hedges neglected

Weeds grown out of control

I forgot that what you don't catch early catches up

It's all ironic to read what's inside

Believe, believe, believe IN me

I'll try

This poem is about: 
My community


Need to talk?

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