Quick Sand
Stability wasn't a thing I would have known
But it got better as I had grown
I thought it was the reason that I cried
But it's really because of my sadness inside
What am I supposed to do
When all I really have is you
And I'm telling you that you don't understand
So you get mad and won't take my hand
I walk by myself through these thick woods
Of things that are bad, more shouldn'ts than shoulds
I feel like I'm sinking when you dont take my hand
As if all that I have is becoming quick sand
This poem is about:
Me