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 May 2012 Courtney
Rachel Klein
I'm always being told how everything I do is
Too much
Or
Too little.

Too much caring
About people
Who honestly
, if asked,
Couldn't care less about me.

Too little love shown
To those who would
Have my back
No matter what.

Little mixed up mind.
Still learning what to
Too many,
Too few.

Too many fake friends.
Say they care,
Then stab you in the back.
All over hate for you.

To few friends who truly care.
Had your back,
Even when you were too busy
Ignoring them

I may not have the world figured out.
Then again, who does?
Too much to learn in a single lifetime.
 May 2012 Courtney
Rachel Klein
Poetry.

One simple word,
Yet it could change your life.

That poem that hits you,
Right when you felt you couldn't be any more
Numb.

The one that shocks you back to
Life.

Maybe the sensitive side comes out.
Maybe you found a poem that
Shows a soul in distress.

Maybe you wrote that poem.
Someone else found it.
Saved you.

Who knows?

Did you ever wonder
Who it was that saved you?
Did you forget that it wasn't just you
That changed your soul?

Usernames hide identities,
So who could ever know
The real name of the soul that saved them.

I know it's happened for me.
People I can't thank enough.
For pulling me out of a blackhole,
A.K.A. Life as w know it.

"We" being those who cut.
"We" being those who smoke.
"We" being those who drink.
"we" being those lost in an
Endless. Downward. Spiral.

Because "we" see the world as it is.
A pit of problems with no bridge across.

The only bridge for the aforementioned "we" is poetry.

Writing poems in hope that someone will read it and save us.
Wondering all the while if anyone even cares.
Does the world care

Whether planned or not.

Have my words,
unspoken, but rather written,
ever saved some
Helpless soul
Wandering without a path?

Life is an endless journey,
Poetry is a shortcut,
Towards happiness galore.

Life is full of thorns.
Poetry is a beautiful field,
Full of flowers, but few thorns.

I can't say there won't be thorns,
Life has to have it's way sometimes.
But I can say I will be there for you,
Likewise with poetry.

If life gets too hard,
turn away from
The blade,
The pipe,
The bottle or can,
Take my hand,
We will make it together.

I may not be too good at voicing my thoughts,
But I mean well.
Some things cannot be said,
Even if they ought to be.

When your vase full of life flowers is drooping and wilted,
Come with me,
Find a new one.

In the end all that matters is how you spent
Hours upon hours.
Suffer,
Survive,
Thrive?

Poetry will make you bloom,
Then you can take that power and lead others.

Just never forget how you got to that place.
And never forget me and
How I taught you to listen to the words of
Souls that are never uttered.

Never forget the old you,
But don't stay that same person.
The past is the past, find your future.


Follow me.
Find poetry.
Change your mind.
Change your outlook.
Become a new, better, you.

— The End —