Is there ever an ending? I walk down the street Black street Gold light She walks before me on the side walk Her tags jingle-jangle It’s too damn soon for Christmas. . . Walking with no shoes on Bare feet and no bra in the dark Not cause I care It’s cause I just don’t Not cause I’m angsty It’s just cause I just want to think… Why is it we can’t be in the now? No day but today and only for a little while they say But if we live for today we can’t see what’s coming from so far away Maybe it’s better that way. . . I want to go camping with Rachel And maybe some other people I’m not really sure I’m not even sure what I’m wanting it for If I escape maybe my head won’t be as sore Maybe I’ll find what my life has in store. . . Will everything be fine if I let it be? Is he alright? I hope she stopped cutting – did she ever stop? Will things get better? Am I there for him enough? Am I there too much? Am I prying? Will I quit building molehills? Will I quite finding reasons to write shitty poems? What will happen? Can I ever let it be? What will happen? Turn the page, Next chapter, Next book, Now for the sequel, What happens next? It’s too damn soon for Christmas. . . Her tags jingle-jangle She walks before me on the side walk Gold light Black street I walk down the street There is never an ending. . .
No, that is a good poem. Don't listen to that dude above. You wrote clearly what you were thinking and feeling, and that is what good poetry is. Keep it up
