Here is another poem from my high school years. Although it’s kind of depressing and I can’t say it’s my strongest piece of writing (the meter has some obvious issues), I still view it fondly.
The lonely wanderer without a home
Has no one--all he's ever known.
No recollections of the past to guide
That which he seeks is lost, inside.
No comfort will he find out there
Amid the frosty, gloomy air;
And should he venture to where he dwell
He'll find it hot as any hell.
Though always suffering--his life defined,
His face feigns thoughts of a gentle mind.
Though no one stops, staring straight at him
He feels the burden of his sin.
So while he searches for a brief respite
Outside, he's trapped in endless plight.
The lonely wanderer without a home
Will always be himself: alone.