Old poem

I was going through of my art boxes and found this poem... I don't know when I wrote it.. probably over four years ago. Thought I'd share:

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We all sit here, stuck and alone
behind these walls and fences that we put up
to keep things out, when we know we want them in.
All of us feeling the same thing,
but in different ways.

We're all bored, and we're all crazy.
We are trees in the wind or shrubs on the floor.
Yearning, wanting, reaching.

We pop pills to kill the pain,
then create new pain and new problems
just to solve the unsolvable.

When you're young there are no mistakes,
only research.