Poem: True

I do not matter.

At least that is what my heart thinks.

It is what makes my head hurt.

It spins so much that I never know when it is turning.

Where can I find the space to be free?

Why does the world hate me?

What can I do to please.

I can not make that wish and I cannot see those beats.

I can try to be better, but that will not make them right.

I just want to make things smooth.

So that ocean can flow beneath your feet.

I think it all means that I must go.

There will be no goodbyes, and no more sorrows.

Just a well wish for a dream that will never come true.