These Changes..

You ask about changes,
And how this changed me.
You ask about how it has,
Effected the way I write.

Well I shall tell you.
Three years ago,
My grandmother died,
A woman that raised me,

Like I was that of her own.
I was raised not to judge a person,
By what they wear, say, or do.
It was always what was on the inside that counted.

For how this effected me,
How this changed my life,
In so many ways.
Once she passed on to her new world.

I was left alone here,
I felt as if I was a burden to all.
I felt treated like an outsider,
Within the own doors of my family.

These were the people,
You were told that they would love you,
No matter what should happen.
Well I was wronged.

I was wronged by my family,
After she died.
I wasn't part of this family,
No matter how much I tried to be.

Being changed from the insider,
That was caught between looking in and out.
I was pushed out, to just be the outsider,
That was always looking in.

To explain how this changed my writing,
How this effected me so.
I hadn't wrote since I was fifteen.
I hadn't picked up a pen nor pencil,

Because every time I would try,
Nothing would ever write itself out,
On the paper than this pen touched.
I just started writing again,

Yes, I just started writing again.
I haven't wrote in four years,
Well I wrote some things here and there,
But nothing ever really that good.

My last piece I wrote before,
All this was probably Bleeding Wrist.
I wrote that in 2007, but until now
September 2009 I hadn't wrote anything new at all.

My emotions on the page,
Most usually sad, dark, and also
Depressing. The anguish I write with now,
At times was never there before.

So these changes here.
Are not for better or for worse,
On my person.
It's just how life throws things at you.