Everything Ends

Everything must come to an end.

No matter how much work has been done.

No matter how much time has been given.

Everything must come to an end.

Sadness envelopes me as it ends.

A chapter of my life, which has gotten me through so many challenging times.

All of my work is gone in an instant.

Friendships, stories, development gone.

Where do we go from here, and how do I overcome this crushing defeat?

All things end, but I wish they didn’t have to.

Throw my feelings in the trash and stomp all over them!

 

 

trashPhoto by Antoine GIRET on Unsplash

 

Do my feelings not matter to you?

Do you think you can do what you want?

Screw me, because I don’t matter!

Throw my feelings in the trash and stomp all over them!

 

Did you even think to talk to me?

Did you think I wouldn’t care?

Did you even think of me?

 

I know you didn’t think of me!

I know no one does!

 

It’s better to not expect anything from anyone!

They always disappoint!

I expect too much from people and I am the one who gets hurt.

 

Did you even think to talk to me?

Did you think I wouldn’t care?

Did you even think of me?

 

Throw my feelings in the trash and stomp all over them!

Am I Your Friend

friend

Photo by Andrew Neel on Unsplash

 


Am I your friend?

Do you really care about me the way I care about you?

We use the terms best friends of is that just me?

But is that truly what I am to you?

 

Do I think more of you than you think of me?

When my usefulness is gone, will you also leave?

Why do these questions haunt me so?

 

I worry about the future, like an endless sea of doubt. 

Doubting myself and others, will I ever be happy.

Always Alone

alone

Photo by Keenan Constance on Unsplash 





Free Book

 

 

FREE BOOK! FROM NOW UNTIL JANUARY 1!

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Please Download, read and tell me what you think!

This is a collection of poems, thoughts, short stories, and art. I hope you enjoy them. Many of my poems might be dark and depressing, but writing is how I cope with things life throws at us. When I’m frustrated, hurt, and sad, I write. It helps me cope with my feeling though not every poem will fit this description most of them will.

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Am I your friend?

friend

Photo by Andrew Neel on Unsplash

 

 

Am I your friend?

Do you really care about me the way I care about you?

We use the terms best friends of is that just me?

But is that truly what I am to you?

 

Do I think more of you than you think of me?

When my usefulness is gone, will you also leave?

Why do these questions haunt me so?

 

I worry about the future, like an endless sea of doubt. 

Doubting myself and others, will I ever be happy.