Do you get life? Do I get life? I know the answer to that. It is simple. If I got life, I would understand you. But I dont and I am ok with that. I am ok with the fact that I have to be wondering if you are my so called friend. Life is a mystery and so are you. You don't know what's coming next is it life is it death? You are only what you are because you made yourself, you cannot blame it on any one else. You have faults, everyone does, but yours are of not being understood. You stop communication, you yourself stop understanding. People talk to you, you dont answer. You are lost, with no one who cares enough to find you. If I care enough to find you, you are in to deep too be seen, in too deep to be found. You brought yourself there, you are to blame. Nobody else, not me
I was like in 6th grade when I wrote this. I did not do any editing at all. I copied it and did not change any words or punctuation so it is exactly like it was when I wrote it in 6th grade. I'll probably look over it sometime but for now I haven't changed anything. I still remember this poem and why I wrote it. It was about a friend. She was just busy with so many things that were not making her happy and she was cutting me off when I was trying to help so I ended up writing about her. It seems like I was making a big deal out of it because I was only in 6th grade but things are not always what they seem. It's really awful but keep in mind that I was like 11 or 12. I don't know if that's a good excuse but yeahh