Through the Looking Glass

It has always been a fear of mine,

To go through life alone.

This long lost island is a sign,

Of an end in ash and bone.

But if I had a choice,

On my journey to the close.

I'd use the power of my voice,

For the gift to look through those.

Those that make life clear,

When everything seems awry.

Those I hold so dear,

Without them I'd surely die.

Although I'm not the best,

At keeping them safe and sound.

It is with them I can attest,

That one day I'll be found.

 

This poem is about: 
Me

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