When will my day come?
The day I can breathe
I can find a place to call home
so I can finally leave.
When will I be free?
To spread my wings
the whole world see
and to do my own thing.
When will my heart be warm?
For someone to hold
but not to harm
and to break the cold.
When will my happiness get here?
To be with my friends
to love without fear
and to laugh with no end.
When will I stop?
Asking so much
trying to reach the top
with this pain and such
are the resons why I ask 'when'.

By, Ana F.
Date: 21/Jan/05
Time: 8:57am

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Well I have to admit at least Spanish class is good for something other than making me go to sleep. I like this poem, it has good meaning, but I find the rhythm kind of off.. anyway, I guess I wrote it while looking at the always thing that stays in my mind. My life. All the things I want to do with it, but I can't for multiple reasons, but I want to do them and I will do them, I just want to know when I'll have the opportunity before I literally break down...