Last night I had a dream
I was standing in a room of white
There were no doors, no windows, no walls
There were no sounds, or people in sight

I walked towards nothing
Hoping that there'd be something to find
My walk turned into a sprint
And I carefully ran out of my mind

I screamed at the top of my lungs
But my voice refused to come out
And so I stood in my place nervously
Unable to hear my own desolate shouts

I was alone with my thoughts
In this never ending room of white
My own mind beat me to my knees
And it had driven me too weak to fight

I woke up from the dream panting,
Making sure my voice is loud and clear
And it terrified me to realize
That the thought of nothing is my greatest fear

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This Poems Story

My name is Amen Al-Moamen, I am sixteen years old and I am the author of "White." During many restless nights, I would just lie on my bed staring at the desolate ceiling while my mind wandered around corners, finding thoughts that would've otherwise remained hidden. With my arm crossed behind my head, I let myself think about things ranging from the very large, like the universe and its mysteries, to the very small, like the way our minds work and interpret different things. But my greatest idea was putting it all on paper.