a million poems inside
but I don't have the strength to write
them down, ink on paper
maybe I'll find the strength
to jot them down later....
....if they don't disappear
into the abyss
yeah my words remain shrouded
in a thick mist
a fog and I hate it
walking into that office
feeling so disconnected
from them all
and from me and from reality
I take my shoes off, everyday
whilst ignoring everyone
whilst laughing with that one
true friend;
progress, I guess.
progress, I guess.
yeah I guess she's all I need
she's just like me
but I'm dying still, but I'm losing the will
I'm getting closer to the edge
but see I made this pledge
I pledged to not give in this time
to the meta-physical grime
to the psycho bells that chime
-i'd rather be you than me-
if only you understood my reality
you would never say so
