I wander the trodden path
As little flowers push through the earth
The sun beats down without any wrath
It settles around me like a warm bath.

There is a slight mist
That clogs my vision
But i'm sure it won't persist
If I keep moving and resist.

The grass here is much thicker
And taller, it has grown
And now I am left to bicker
With how I can't move any quicker.

I think I might have lost my way
Because I am no longer on the path
Fighting through this grassy fray
Where I am now, I can not say.

But i'm sure i'll find the trodden trail
That so many have walked before
But creating a new path could not fail
For I don't have a place to sail.

The grass isn't rough
It is soft and warm
I can relax and remove my bluff
Of one who always looks so tough.

I have never felt such tranquility
In being in an unfamiliar place
It's as if all I needed was some stability
To clear up the misty visibility.

So now I lay down and I close one eye
Thinking about how tomorrow will be
I hum briefly a little lullaby
As I wonder to myself, where am I?

The pendulum swings
echoing inside the clock.
The muffled sound repeats,
tick, tock, tick, tock.

The noise echos hollowly
as if it is too empty to speak.
The rhythm is so off beat,
tick... tock... tick....... creek.

The clock's hands are failing
to point to the numbers on time.
The sound is now unnatural,
tick.. tock... tick...... chime.

The pendulum swings
slowly it falls apart like a thread.
The sound starts to echo,
tick..... tock.. tick....... dead.

The glory days are over,
nothing lasts.
There is no such thing as forever,
look at the hour glass.

This was going to be metaphorical,
something that would make an impact.
But my life is too confrontational,
to even make a solid pact.

I know what some people would say,
that i'm sixteen, and have not faced real problems.
But do you know what problems are in my way,
that block the garden that no longer blossoms.

Everyday I wake up,
I look into traumatized eyes.
These poor children who are seen as a hiccup,
a mistake, that has been made by the unwise.

I do not think they are a mistake,
but I sometimes wish they weren't born.
Abusive homes that made them ache,
echo in their souls that are torn.

How do you fix something so broken?
When you are still trying to find yourself.
How do you get chosen,
to watch shells of children beg for themselves?

Am I a kid?
I can't be one in this situation.
I put on a lid,
and shut out my childish temptations.

Too much too soon,
it suffocates me.
I love them so much that I swoon,
when they cry from the pain that won't leave them be.

I try, God knows I do,
to help them live.
We helped one before and he has become new,
but the others, I fear, can not understand what we give.

How do you teach a child creativity?
Or teach them that hitting, is not love.
How do you teach them to act independently?
When they act as one to not get smacked from above.

When does this madness end?
Can it all become normal?
Forever, changes and bends,
I should have known it all would crumble.

One of them is afraid of the dark,
another is afraid of closed doors.
The monster in the dark is real and it sparks,
the other to be locked in rooms alone, fearing the war.

The security blanket was burned long ago,
it must be knit back.
Patch by patch we sow,
and hope to God they don't enter the black.

The glory days are over,
they have been for a long time now.
I hope I can help these children find a four leaf clover,
they need the luck, i'll help them, I won't bow.

Little lights,
that are far above my weary head.
They shine so bright that I can't see,
because I am blinded.

Dense treetops,
cover the sky above me.
Those lights have vanished,
I shiver as a cool breeze encompasses me.

Branches snap,
the sound echoes through the forest
Like a loud bell reverberates over the land.
Heavy snow falls from the trees above.

Icy paths,
test my center of gravity.
Can I stay on my feet? I must leave.
I can't move any faster or I will fall.

Darkest sky,
where are those little lights?
Black clouds cover the horizon,
and there is no telling where I am going.

Moving clouds,
separate to let me see,
the little lights that shine brightly,
and lead me through this night.

Little lights,
if I die
do me a favor,
and burn down this forest.

Chariots,
please just carry me
the rest of this distance,
because I can't walk anymore.

Sleepy mind,
don't black out now.
The chariot is right there,
just keep going.

Cold metal,
burns as I touch it.
But I drag myself onto it.
I need to make it out.

Closing eyes,
life flickering off.
The feel of cold snow blanketing my body.
There is no chariot to save me.

Little lights,
start to become fuzzy.
This forest must burn now.
For I will never exit.