Last Time

Last time I wrote poetry I was depressed and 16 The shit life would throw at me Got stuck inside my seams In these pants of life I continued with a fear These mass amounts of strife No one would care to hear But then there came a moment When rain meant shine would come The day on bay I spent A guy I deemed the one Would melt the blocks of ice Surrounding the snowballs That blocked it once or twice The heart that sank to fall now gravity felt good John Mayer knew this not The feeling that would Make fools out of robots Last time I wrote poetry It was eleven 34 My love was sleeping sickly And I wished I could do more From 400 miles away We connected in our spirits With love that came to stay That multiplied in its purest I prayed for opportunity Good health and maintained love A move somewhere near January Blue stars and turtle doves To establish independence To be there for support Rewarded with some cents A grown up of some sort She who followed the voice Within her heart and soul For the next time she would write poetry The world wouldn't be so cold