Poetry
A Friend
I walked along a lonesome road
With no one by my side
I carried such a heavy load
With no one to confide
My chest grew heavy with the weight
I carried in my heart
The road I walked was far from straight
But crooked from the start
And then someone came walking by
They stopped and took my load
My weight was lifted, I could fly
And leave that winding road
The road below became so clear
My way I then could find
All this because a friend was near
Who heard and didn't mind
The Mark
Aloneness is a shadow dark
That overlooks us all
It touches each to leave its mark
Of terror on the wall
THE HOUSE
Standing high upon the hill
Its features cold and gray
A house that held inside its walls
A child who could not play
She could not play for she was but
A prisoner in a cell
Who had to do what she was told
But never could she tell
Not only could she never tell
But never could she see
The way that other children played
The way that it should be
To play as if a beauty queen
With powder and a purse
Or mending scratches on a doll
Just like a real life nurse
Her world was but a darkened room
Madness filled the air
To see if for the way it was
Her mind would never dare
So now she's gotten far away
But peace she'll never find
For terrors hidden in the house
Now hide inside her mind