The Same But Different

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  • Sadness

    The Same But Different

    I wish I could change
    I'm not happy, you see.
    Where did my life go?
    Is this where I should be?
    Some things, I would keep the same.
    Only change the things, that make me lame.
    I lost my ambition, my will, and my strife.
    I wanted to do something better with my life.
    Is it too late?
    Will I overcome?
    Or will my life always stay undone?
    I wanted to be an example;
    show the kids what to do.
    Instead I sit back,
    searching for clues.
    I already feel old,
    like I'm stuck in a cell.
    What can I do, to get out of this Hell?
    I know did this.
    I am to blame.
    I am glued to the wall,
    like a picture in a frame.
    How can I change me,
    to make better this life?
    I don't know what to do
    to make my life precise?
    Please someone
    give me the push that I need,
    to change for the better,
    so I can be freed.

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    A poem begins as a lump in the throat, a sense of wrong, a homesickness, a lovesickness. It finds the thought and the thought finds the words.

    Robert Frost (1875-1963) American Poet.

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