My bed, it offered little comfort,
While tears oh silently fell.
I wrapped myself away from the world,
Felt trapped in my own personal hell.
I was trapped, in a dark dark hole,
No distant glimmer of light.
I'd sit and cry first thing on a morning,
And the last thing on a night.
The pillows were the ones who heard my sobs,
The blanket, it concealed me.
It kept me away from the world and life,
Away from everyone I didn't want to see.
The light on the ceiling, the only source,
In the darkness of my past.
I spent my time sobbing here,
Wishing each day was my last.
Eventually I found the door was open,
And it lead out to the street.
I met a boy who gave me a hand,
And lifted my back to my feet.
Daniel Adams
http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/bed-6/
