The Life of A Teenage Girl

This is just me doing poems when I have nothing better to write and I have something that I would like to get off of my mind and onto paper. This might go down at some point or it might stay up until I hit 100. I don't know. But until than Just enjoy getting closer to my soul through words that are o the computer.


8. The Back Room

In the back room of my house

You can hear the sounds of cries

You think it might be a child

But it is just me

The girl in the back room

In the back room, I always have it dark

For one reason or another

But now days it is hard

I muffle my tears

I listen to people outside

talking and laughing and playing around

with the one thing that they all have in common

Friends that they can see

In the back room I keep myself hidden

Although I can hide anywhere

The back room is my heaven. 

Filled with ghosts

and stories of lost days

Memories that I try to push away

In the back room. 

In the back room you can hear the sounds of cries.

Do not be fold by what you hear

It is not a child crying for their mother

It is me calling to a lost friend.

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