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Printed from https://writing.com/main/view_item/item_id/1597794-Trapped-in-a-box
Rated: 18+ · Poetry · Dark · #1597794
A day in a mind where nothing's right.
Yet again the day has shown
Tonight I'll right it out alone.
I'm tired of thinking again and again
That tonight's the day my life should end.

Pain should be my cure when nothing is right
But I don't want that shit, it's blurring my sight.
There is a problem here, of that I'm sure
'Cuz why is it the only thing that wants to talk me is my pen on paper?

It's trying to say "Bitch, quit your whining"
But my mind keeps on saying the pen is lying.
All I ever wanted was someone to talk to, was that ever a crime?
Then why the FUCK is it always a bad time?!

Look at me now, god dammit I'm crying
Now I know the pen a'int lying.
All I've been good for it bitching and whining
And I'm getting tired of my friends who are shining.

I feel like the weed under your family's tree
Because I'm the thing no one wants to see.
So don't be scared, pull up your sleeve
I'll come out with one good heave.

There's just one person I want to see
God, she means so much to me.
But the problem is that it cannot be
Because our fucking parents won't set us free.

It always feels like I'm being wrapped up in a chain
And one of these days I'm gonna go insane.
I don't know why I can't be put out of my shame
Because I'm sick and tired of all this pain.

Blood's not the cure when nothing's right
But I'm really tired of trying to fight it.
These words on paper, I always hide
But I promise you, tonight won't end in suicide.
© Copyright 2009 P. Browne (locustburger at Writing.Com). All rights reserved.
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