My Life

Moving on to 9th grade poetry... I entered prior poems into a contest and won. Some critic said my poetry was "the soul's turmoil". I didn't like that phrase so I wrote the following poem.

My Life

My emotions are like running water, from my head. My words ramble on without end. No one ever listens, and silence is deafening. I'm numb, not knowing what to think or what to say. I want people to be my friend, but wishing isn't enough. My dreams are my escape. Without them my life would be a hysteric mass of confusion. I know who I am. I'm happy...I think. Maybe it is just that. I think too much. Over-analyzing every situation without end. Loneliness is panic. Too much time of nothingness. Every noise and every shadow. I wish people wouldn't be so mean. Their anger and jealousy stabs me like one hundred daggers. Sometimes I ask why am I the one who people hate? I do nothing to hurt them. They say my writing is the soul's turmoil. You think I believe that. No! I have a better word for it. That is my life....