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We need all these people in our lives, filling these notions.
When Im gone, I feel like these people dont exist.
Why must I, a worthless soul, be feeling these emotions?
Weekly, im writing this one poem, making these lists.
While my lists are wrote, I'm feeling horrible, making fists.
When drawing, writing, and modelling, I spill the feelings.
While you carry on, waking each day remember me.
Remember my art, experinces, love, and healings.
Weekly, In my frame of mind, I'm fleeing.
Weening myself these absurd feelings.
Weighing down my heart, smiling back.
Wednsday, you all will know what I was lacking.
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Your writing all makes perfect sense and i luv it! great job.
