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What's The Point
April 16, 2013
I can feel the wind in the air,
How come my life is so not fair?
The tears are coming like a stream,
Why can’t this all be one big dream?
I sit in my room; like a mouse,
Why am I stuck in this old house?
What is the point of living on?
I just want to fly away and be gone.
Mom and dad are never home
No one comes, I am all alone.
It is a cycle that repeats.
I can hear the drum when it beats.
I can feel the wind in the air,
How come my life is so not fair?
© Anonymous
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