I flick trough the poems
that I've forgotten that I've written
and i read about,
how I feel tortured and belittled

A journey of three years
a very long time
that had flew in front of my eyes
and here I am now
wondering

where did the time go?

it saddens me to say
that I am no different
I wish I had progressed
but I guess it makes no difference

this proves to me though
that life indeed is so hard
because who would've known
that in such a long time
I would've made no progress

still the same
broken
shattered
saddened
anxious
sensitive
loving
lonely
sh­y
dreamer

person that I guess I still am