They say that the eyes are window's into the soul,
They say that our soul is eternal,
They say that the soul is necessary to live,
Does that mean when we cry, the windows open?
Does that mean we cry our soul away,
Crying our life away to a world that doesn't care?
Who knows.

Shuffling through the papers,
Watching the inked pages move,
Seeing the past words,
I see who I was,
It gives me a glimpse of my starting point,
It gives me an idea of who've I become,
And it gives me a thought,
A thought that scares me,
The thought,
Of who I might become.

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