The Mind's Shadow

The girl ran away from home.

Now she was in the darkness all alone.

She cries and cries in the dark, silent night,

remembering her and her parents in that fight.

"Why do they hate me, hate me so much?"

She recalls her parents swearing in Dutch.

She ponders and ponders till the sun comes up,

then with a light bulb, she is struck.

She walks till her feet meet the ocean floor

and mutters to herself,

 "heaven open your doors."

she falls in and tries to drown,

only to resurface with a frown.

A mans arms she is in,

his breath minty, with a tint of gin.

"A pretty face like yours shall not die,

for my shoulder is here, for you to cry."

Walks and walks,

the girl does for hours.

Only to find herself in a field of flowers.

She dances and sings and sings and sings,

her face so happy, and soul full of glee

Then a storm rages on out of no where,

 and the girl tries to flee.  

But alas, the end was inevitable

for she couldn't have ran.

 Death came shadowing over her, 

and there in the flower fields,

 rested young Anne.

Okay so yeah, this is kinda different.  Today I decided to share with you a poem I wrote a few months ago.  It is really dramatic and weird, yeah trust me, I KNOW.  It's about a girls mind as she grows older.  Her fighting with her parents and then she goes to the ocean.  Meaning she goes with the flow of life not caring about what happens to her and wanting to die, the man that saves her.  That is like an anchor, or reason to why she decides against her original plan.  The field of flowers represents what she wants in life and what she pretends to be to the outside world around her, yet clouds come over her referring to death and she is left in the flower field to sleep, everyone thinking she died, having a happy life but she didn't.  Also I just want to say, Happy Birthday to my friend Samantha.  I have known her since kindergarten and we are still great friends.  Her birthday was this week and I am really sad I didn't get to see her, but so happy she is growing up.  Out of my friends, Aquetzalli, (a-quet, as in banQUET, zall, rhymes with call, e) Briana, Prasansha, and me, she is the youngest and most innocent.  And defiantly the social butterfly.  Anyways, sunscribe for more and follow my blog, yata, yata, yata, BYE!