I'm sad that I'm going mad,
That my life is pile of shit.
No one likes me, there's no love,
I always stumble into a pit.
This pit I feel, has blades of steel,
That are cutting into me slow.
How do I now, become whole somehow
I really do not know.
Then maybe a dream, or it would seem,
I am just smithereens or dust.
That would be the end, non-negotiable bend,
When my demise is certainly a must.
Trapped in fear, the whispers I hear,
Tell me the many ways to die.
I have no peace, in my head at least,
I just breakdown and cry.
Maybe as a fish, an improbable wish,
I could stay in a stagnant pond.
There I could hate and hide myself,
Not have anybody to respond.
The selfish self-assured circle closing in,
The smattering of overconfident thugs.
There's no escape, I have no spare cape,
And too much shit to sweep under the rugs.
The perception of deception can't be refuted,
Like you never say you're blind when you can see.
The shadows are menacing and long,
I no longer know how to be.
