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Lone
November 10, 2008
Slamming into her pillow
eyes closed
listening to the cars
whiz passed
not really caring
or listening
tears slowly sliding
down her cheek
she hopes no one hears
she knows no one will
wants to die
or escape
somehow
wises her
dark walls
could swallow
the hurt
the pain
the anger
clock ticks
slowly
and uneven
the second hand
ticking
but not moving
like life
not really moving
but still ticking
her eyes
close
and she hopes
and wishes
it were
a dream.
© Jennifer H., Bethesda, MD
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This article has 2 comments.
the writer said...
on Dec. 2 2008 at 11:54 am
thanks..i think its pretty good myself!
lizzie said...
on Nov. 13 2008 at 5:36 pm
awesome! congrats hannah :) that is a great poem but it makes me cry.
