Writing is my way out of this world we live in.
Writing is my way to forget,
It’s my way to release what I can’t express verbally,
My release is as powerful as a beating heart.
As I lay here in this dark silent room,
Unwanted feelings knock on the door,
Feeling this uncontrollable pain and gloom
Flashes of what I did and what I had
Pictures of me laying on the floor dead
I think back at the pain I worship,
the fear I praise today,
My sorrow is skin deep,
How many times did I weep?
A darkness which blanks my mind,
I love the graveyards, what could I find?
This boxed feeling is claustrophobic,
Why do I feel locked?
This is my last degree I have to obtain,
The pain of being unwanted shall always remain