Page 78 - Written Feelings

Wonder

Wonder why the sky is blue
Wonder what is real and true
Wonder what to say or do
All I seem to do is Wonder

I hate that the nights are black
I hate needing what I lack
I hate when I’m losing track
I hide all my Hating under

I miss it when life had meaning
I miss the light in my ceiling
I miss knowing how I'm feeling
It's raining without the thunder