II. Hidden



Friends, old and new join together,

forming an odd kind of family.

Drunken men make moves and women

refuse until the morning.

Finding myself turned into losing her in someone else’s shadow.

Hidden from the light, still grasping at straws

but always with a failing grip.

Stand up for yourself and fight,

but he will always spend the night.

Obligations, re-decorations, and feeling like I’m stuck in a box.

The fishbowl life caused pain and strife,

the anxiety sets in and depression will rise to the top.

We’re running out of time, but it’s never too late to step back

and look at the sun.

Smell the flowers, change is anew.

Like ants under a magnifying glass we hide from judgment

and seek solace in arms.

Always under a watchful eye, the tool observes me.

Trying to fix the parts that aren’t even broken.

His anger turns to impatience.

We fought so often,

but I was never sure who won.


This poem is about: 
My community


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