Standing in a room of people <br />feeling all alone <br />concealing this want <br />to be known <br />I yell at the top of my lungs <br />for me to be heard <br />Yet nobody listens to me <br />not one word <br />I'm barely breathing <br />at this stage <br />and there's nothing left inside <br />except this intense rage <br />Why do I walk this path <br />that wraps around and around <br />wearing this hole <br />into this familiar ground <br />This feeling continues to arise <br />unwilling to taste demise <br />but continually <br />blinding my hopeful eyes <br />I see so many people <br />digging their own ruts <br />all repeating the same question <br />of what <br />What will define me <br />make me into something more <br />what is it that will open <br />these sought after doors <br />What can lengthen my step <br />and broaden my views <br />pushing my hope <br />to make it through <br />If I could just toss this routine <br />into the abyss <br />I would feel like so much more <br />like I finally exist <br />As I continue to wander <br />my head starts to ponder <br />that maybe its my own self <br />that I continue to squander <br />Maybe if I could put my hopes <br />into something much larger <br />then my desires and dreams <br />would stretch much farther <br />Maybe my downcast eyes <br />should start to look up <br />and maybe to Him <br />I should pass my cup<br /><br />Trevor Schulte<br /><br />http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/alone-165/
