School Nights In Autumn

i wrote this one in 6th grade.

Sitting alone to clear my mind.

Stone steps so cold.

Always here because there's nowhere else to go.

Ripped jeans.

Sunset.

Could it get any better?

Or possibly worse?

I just can't tell right now.

Marks fading,

but new ones appear.

I never seem to make myself clear.

Put into categories and then taken out,

I just can't seem to find myself.

I want to leave this world,

this Hell.

I'm tired and cold and I want to go home.

But thats not an option.

I'll still be alone.