By Arcassin Burnham
Finding peace wasn't in a time of having nothing
Left to live for, sitting in a box possessing four
Poorly crafted walls in pure disparity of getting
Out alive and not going insane when you were
Never insane in the first place,
Bringing up memories in your head that you forsake,
Everyone is Greedy and they gotta have their cake,
**** I should have known that my friends were pure
Fakes,
Man the rumors circled and they follow you to your
Fate,
I'm the Quiet One , so I came up as a target,
Even til this day I still in back of classes markin',
All the people I'm gonna **** on when I make it
Out of these four walls,
Dying to call my mom but she withdraws.
©ABPoetry2016
http://arcassin.blogspot.com/2016/08/the-quiet-one.html