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Helpless
27 November, 2002
Author: Gypsy

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Anger, Frustration, sadness
all running through my veins
I can't seem to do anything right.
The harder I work the worse it is.
Why?
If working gets me no where, I'll stop.
I won't do anything but sit here
I'll let the world pass me by...
I'll let chances pass me...
I'll let opportunities go...
I'll sit here...
I'll be dead.

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Comments on this poem/writing:

Leah06 (24.5.241.141) -- Wednesday, December 3 2003, 12:36 am

Hey gurlie!

This is really really good! your wrok is improving very well. Great job!
 
Name:                                           Remember Me

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