Poem: New different pain

The new me is something I always wanted.

I just do not like it.

This is not me.

The hurt that was gone has move to place that is unknown.

Yet I still fell the bruise from the years of grief.

When I look up, I do not know what I see.

I cannot see the tears from sun.

The moon does not shine bright.

At least not for my light.

I cannot think of the way to move.

The end is no longer cool.

Hurt is all around just like the dirt from the ground.

I need to go so I can cry no more.

The same tears still run down my face.

My joy is still gone, and my fears have become real.

I guess the new me is the old me just little more gone.  

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