My Nightmare Poem by Nathan Schneider
My Nightmare
As he’s sitting down on the curb
Broken, tired of losing everything he has
He sits up and takes a deep breath
He thinks of all he’s lost of what he use to have
Of the soul and spirit he use to have
Hes known as a failure and amounted to nothing
His memories of a cherished childhood is all he has left
That’s my nightmare.
Sunday, November 6, 2011
Topic(s) of this poem: childhood
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8/28/2026 7:23:34 PM # rel_20260827T145718Z_a0f1bd3
