Upon walking down the street late at night
As I do when I feel lost and gone from sight
I thought of past decisions made
Upon review of the goals I’ve reached and the prices I’ve paid
Mistakes and triumphs, regrets that weigh me down
Often so much that I frequently fear that I will drown
I see my reflection in a window of the store
Although I do look hungry for more
I see only the struggles and those who I have fought for
I can see the eyes of those for whom living is a chore
The eyes of those I’ve wronged in my righteous fight
As I attempt to gain an idea of what’s wrong and what’s right
In seeing my reflection in that window there
I see someone who looks like all she does is care
I see someone who has trouble sleeping as she cries
This would be because she watches as the world dies
People destroy and then leave in a hurry
Never worrying about the facts whenall she does is worry
They’ll never know how her pillow was wet with tears because she knows
Because everyone has their highs and lows
But it is the news of deaths that sets hers apart
And so she resorts to writing as her art
But they’ll never realize why she has to cry herself to sleep
But it doesn’t matter because regardless, she’ll still weep
R's Poetry 