(A/N: Just a teeny- tiny little poem I wrote a lo-o-ong time ago, so read, rate, and review! If you have written one, send me the link of it or something so I can look at it.)

The frustrations of feeling

Subtle when thoughts cloud ones mind

Grow denser in vines of sorrow

And sprouts grapes of tears

And wine in rage of tomorrow

Whilst cursing the buds of humanity

Pluck out in divine anger

Thou question the possible reason

These emotions had been brought up

And collapse in cries of treason

One sits up straight,

And looks around with tears

Gently rolling down-cheeks

Observes and stares at the ceiling

Muses, blankly, and cluelessly seeks

And one, when all is through

Feels a shining glimmer of breath inside

Like a newborn leaf budding

Closes eyes and recognizes

The mutual follies of hoping.