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.