I sit in the park;
There’s a rush,
I’m confused, as I sit in the park.
Red, yellow, blue, orange, Black.
In the bus, train, plane.
I look around, up, behind me.
Darkness, looming. Fast.
Cries, Wailing, Mourning.
What? Is this real? Noise!
The Noise is too much. I can’t bear it!
Drowning. Suffocating. I’m thinking of dying. But why?
Nothing makes sense. I hate it. I hate you. I hate myself. I hate everyone. Even if it might not be easy.
Wait. Wait! Wait!
Light. Is it a train? Friend or Foe? The rescue team? Maybe. Just maybe.
That’s all I wanted. No. Needed.
Hope. I have to make it. I’ll make it. I will.
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Nice poem. Nice subject
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