Unlike any other

I found my old journal last weekend and put it in my backpack.

I haven't written in it in about a year and a half. I got hooked on this computer thing...and well, you can see how addicted I am.

I was looking through it today though, and I found a poem that I wrote my senior year. I don't write poetry AT ALL, and when I do, there is usually a serious reason for it. This particular poem was written during a really hard time, and I just wanted to share it:

-Outside, the clouds start to swell and the rain threatens to fall.
-Here I am, locked in my head, with thoughts unlike what is right.
-Death threatens to fall on me, as I continue to walk through the muddy trails that have become my mind.
-Outside myself, I am living for the moment.
-Inside, I am living in the past.
-The past of lies and hurt.
-Not to be overcome.
-And as I lay here consumed beyond belief with the hurt...outside, the clouds continue to swell and the rain threatens to fall.

So it's not the correct format for poetry and the grammar is a bit off, but I never claimed to be a poet.

Just felt like sharing.