I am An Island

When I am with people above me
I feel like I am on a treadmill out of control.
The faster and smarter they talk,
The harder it is to catch up.
I want to be like them,
Because no one likes amateurs.
But when they stop talking,
All there is silence.
I hate the damn silence.

When I am with the people between me,
The silence is worse.
I try to talk,
But they do not understand.
\They concentrate on what they feel,
And I have no choice but to understand,
Even when it hurts.

No friends above,
No friends below.
I am an island to myself.
Please understand me and get me off.

unknown

In the middle of the road,
There is a dreary building
That was once used to train for war.
But now in that building is a ray for hope.
A kind, lovely angel stands at the dark building
With pictures of children and cuddlies surrounding it,

I come to offer something simple
And she gives back smiles and hope.
Her touches are heavenly,
And her wisdom profound
And as I leave there
I feel blessed
That such an angel with her smile
Can brighten the darkest of nights.

Hope

The room of scars is a lonely, frightening room.
One no one wishes to be in.
But the secret is for that one who enters, many enter too.
Frightened, scared, hopeless.
Not knowing where the light is.
First, you must believe in yourself.
In hope, good things come, there is no bad.
In hope comes trust.
Because one person who locked you in there does not make a population.
Believe in good, believe in friends.
I may not know all the room of scars,
But I do know of at least of one exit.
And I promise a friend will be right there waiting.