The Secret Poem by Stephanie Boccia

The sound of falling,
Found and calling.
The cry of screaming,
When death is dreaming.

Loss and false hopes binding us down,
It's our cost of not being found.
Sounds of voices peek in our heads,
Fallen asleep deep in our beds.

Faith calling and showing our fates,
Knowing of death and full of hates.
Life frozen or caught on fire,
Why does it matter if it soon will shatter?

I walk only to be lost,
In the changes that come,
While everyone else finds their way,
In the cold that leaves me numb.

I seem to be always alone,
No one there to whom I can confide,
I'm trapped in this pain,
But it's the only place I can hide.

Seeming like your life's a float,
While in your pocket's a suicide note,
Cut deep or shallow scratch,
Covered up with a patch.

The sound of falling,
Found and calling.
The cry of screaming,
When death is dreaming.