First draft of one of the YWRP workshop poems

Here is where the thought started. The final piece (in a previous post) is where it lead.

To fight for what you know

to be true, can make

you stand on your own

for too long.

How can you feel that

you are a part

of something, when

others treat you like

nothing?

  

Being alone is sinking

into a dark pit

of despair.

You can’t get out,

because no one

is there.

Trapped and falling

far from the top.

Never seeing where

it will stop.