Isolation
Isolation.
Being separate from other things or people.
Somewhere I love to be,
Somewhere where I can avoid the needles.
A place where I can think,
A place where I can unfold,
And no one else can enter.
It’s my own stronghold.
I sit down in a corner,
No one else taking notice.
I think about life,
Trying to find a purpose.
Then someone walks over to me.
And they say…
“Take my hand, get up.
It’ll be okay.”
“Things may look terrible…
But there is always good to find.
Don’t waste away here.
Don’t leave the world behind.”
“Sin is unavoidable.
It’s not just you.
You aren’t terrible,
Just change your view.”
“You must get up and fight.
Don’t run away.
And no matter what happens,
It’ll be okay.”
I take their hand.
I stand and fight.
And I try to help others too.
I continue to write.
I thank that person.
They helped me fight my depression
Out of kindness, not gain.
They could have left me in isolation.
Another bad poem...sorry...I just had an idea that sounded good in my head and was terrible on paper...but I'm posting to stay active. Plus, I thought my first poem was bad, and it SOMEHOW got featured, so...I'm trying...also, do I use this theme to much??? I think so...
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