Poem: Ever Last

Tired and confused about the way things are.

The way I want things to be is coming up short to what they are.

Everything that first seemed so right have turn into a disaster to dark to see.

Nothing is the same and nothing is given.

Lost is occurring through the storm of forgiveness.

The hope that dreams were built on, have wash away with the flood from my pain.

Why me I can no longer ask.

The question has been answered more ways that I cannot see.

I think I did the right thing, but now I see I was a nightmare that ran my dreams.

I hope tomorrow brings the hope back, but right now I cannot see that lasting.