Lies are told everywhere you go,
Truths are hidden,
Even in the nicest of people,
They start the lie, by saying some truths,
To find the whats right,
Isn't always right,
Sometimes,
Lies are said to protect the weak,
And to the strongest,
It makes them weak,
So how do you know to tell truths from lies?
The answer is simple,
You don't.

It's been a year since then,
A year filled with worry,
8 Months of happiness,
6 months of being lost,
4 months of being cut off,
2 months of finding myself,
2 weeks since I got better,
1 day since you haven't been in my head,
Time passes, the world moves, and you move on.
20 seconds since I started this,
10 seconds since I started thinking,
5 seconds since I did something useful,
Now,
I continue.

Jot, Jot, Jot,
The pen skids across the paper,
The ink leaving behind a trail of black that forms thoughts,
Jot, Jot, Jot,
Thoughts form the story,
The story shows the past,
Of the teenage poet,
The poet, who is in constant pain.

The fields of gray,
Have the sent of ash,
A sky of black,
Grass of pouder,
And, a tree of red,
Standing in the middle of the field,
With a dull light radiating off it,
With pink leaves falling off into the wind,
Its a depressing sight to many onlookers,
But not to me,
To me, it's a sight that fills me with hope,
Hope that can outshine even the grayest of times.

Pondered thoughts,
Squandered memories,
Unanswered questions,
Scattered hopes,
These things we have in common,
Are also the factors in which we are different,
We are different, yet similar,
Smart,
Yet dumb,
A lover,
Yet an abandon-er,
A reader,
And a writer,
Lost,
and yet,
Found

We sit and ponder the questions we make,
We expect other to give an answer when asked,
Yet we get no response,
No response....no answer....,
Yet we know the answer,
It's always been there,
We just refuse to accept it,
Refuse to hear it,
Because it hurts to much,
and there's nothing we can do to change it,
Nothing we can do to fix it,
and nothing that will ever help you face it.

Wondering threw the dark,
I notice how alone we all are,
How sad we must all feel in this darkness,
How angry we must all seem to be at ourselves,
So sad, angry, and alone,
You probably feel like all is lost,
Or there is nothing left for you,
But like a wise man once said,
"You can't always see the light at the end of the tunnel,
But if you keep moving, You will come to a better place"
You gotta keep going,
Even through,
The darkest tunnels.