Lost

I am lost, cannot be found

For they don’t know,

I snuck away, without a sound.

I need to go and clear my head.

Because

There has always been, one common thread.

They are wretched. It’s not up for debate.

I have to go

Or else it will be too late.

When I get where I’m going, I will sleep

But for now,

The woods are lovely, dark and deep.

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Author's Note: The bold stanza was pulled from another poem, 'Stopping by Woods on a Snowy Evening' by Robert Frost. Writing towards an ending stanza is an exercise we did in my Writing Poetry class.