Where were you something so deep, so cold?
Trapped in the wishing well of the untold.
Surrounded by meer memories of my past, I am never to see the present.
Why is it for myself I hold all this resentment?
I'm mad at myself, for I am so weak.
Days are passing and breath feels bleak.
I would always play by that wishing well, never knowing what time would tell.
Jump, climb, try to survive..
Although my inner hopes can barely thrive.
Breathe! Breathe, I'm starting to choke..
I miss my home, I'm so alone, falling deeper into onset misery, setting up my life for catastrophes.
Losing, losing! My humanity; I've sunk deep into my own insanity.
Now I have fallen, now I am gone;
now this wishing well is full of my blood.
I wrote a poem about two years ago, and hated it.
But I went back to it recently and changed it a bit, and here is the outcome. I hope it's good, I don't really know