Hi

Fri, 02/27/2015 - 02:31 -- azsxw1

Hi this is you,

from a year or so ago,

remeber that person

you met before going home

you thought they looked kinda scetchy

you talked to forever

and found out they were an artist

and later that night 

made off with a sweater

or that Pet you saw at the store

and was caged 

waiting to see a new door

Or even how about 

that weird due who handed 

us a piece of paper

that makes no sense what so ever

What were their names?

did you ever ask their names?

was the sweater returned?

and can you understand that paper now?

the future is aways blury

but to the future the past is clear

can my questions be answered now?

or are they still blury for you too?

if they are,

Fix it because I don't like questions

that float in my head

and keep me from my bed

they make me red

and sometimes fill me with dread

what the worst of what I said

is when my bed, my head, my dread, and turning red wed

into a lead block holding me dead

so you, yes you,

don't keep those questions

they will ask again.

This poem is about: 
Me

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