Stand By Me Poem by Amber Peterson

I'm sitting here at 8: 45
near the end of my rope.
I don't know why,
but I'm starting to lose hope.

My life is a blur,
and I feel like a ghost.
I know I'll never be 'her'
and I'm not like most.

I just need a friend.
Someone to lean on.
This can't be the end,
but where is the new dawn?

My days are dark.
Depression sets in.
I might as well have swam with a shark
for the cuts on my skin.

Why can't anybody hear my cries?
Why can't they see?
Will someone just ignore the lies,
and finally come stand by me?