No matter how bleak
Passing days may seem,
You needn't act meek
Basking in the gleam

Of the sun's lustrous
Beams blazing upon
Your face, so wondrous
When not kept withdrawn.

You possess beauty
Unfortunately
Hidden secretly
Since you sheepishly

Shy away from their prying eyes
And the cold sting of their shrill cries.
The world outside patiently waits
Until you return so they'll berate

Whatever you try
To possibly do;
You have to defy
Those words they imbue

On your imprinted spirit, so weary.
Surely, you haven't envisioned this dreary
Outcome you face every ****** day.
You know there must be other ways

To make yourself feel comfortable
With the world that's surrounding you.
You know your joy's sustainable,
And the dreams you keep will come true.

Hopefully, you learn just how to prevail
In this perilous and turbulent tale!

Wretched insects crawl across my frail skin,
Though the sensation proves to be phantom.
I lacerate my sanity, worn thin,
And gaze in horror at what I've become.

I ferociously claw at the slightest
Hint of a pest gnawing adamantly
At my many sensitive nerve endings--
I know I'm not thinking rationally.

Usually, I lead myself to believe
That outside sources are the root of these
Unsettling woes and disturbances,
But I plainly see the true circumstance--

It's only cruel trickery I create,
Fretful byproducts of my mind's poor state.

The people's total willingness
To accept such blatant ignorance
Seems like quite a condemnation.
Though this illusion seems like bliss,
It also seems like the causation

For many obstacles we face--
How we try to hastily race
To somehow appease these morons--
God forbid they might feel displaced,
It's not like the life they knew's gone

If someone finally brought forth the facts
And proved they were totally true,
Though quickly, they'd refute this evidence
And stick with the **** they first knew.

Sharply played notes ring in the air,
You hear its shrill sound, but from where?
It starts to buzz, and you wonder why
No one else noticed this screeching cry.

The noise of static suddenly flares,
You can't help but emptily stare
As this boisterous clamor grinds
At the inside of your clattered mind.

This cacophony soon makes you weak,
You can't help but produce a shriek!
Your screams will soon become quite hoarse,
And none will fathom your discourse.

Soon, this tumultuous discord
Puts you in a downwards spiral,
And all the others somehow ignore
*This hellish fright, so wickedly vile.

I don't know why, but Daddy's sad again.
He just wants to cry all alone in the den.
It'll be okay, though Mommy's gone away,
I'm sure she'll be coming back soon someday.

He doesn't say where exactly she stays,
But when she comes back, I do want to play.
We'll all feel happy when we're together,
And hopefully, Daddy will feel better.

I went to see him, but he was standing
On a chair with a rope around his neck.
He can't stop yelling, he kept demanding
That I call Grandma and not interject.

I'm not really sure what he was planning,
But when I went back downstairs just to see,
From the rope he tied, he was just hanging,
And could only stare blankly back at me.

Finding no pleasure in daily routines
Surprisingly treasured by the machines
Reminding you it's just the status quo
And part of the life in which we all grow,

Unsatisfied with droll simplicities,
You might indulge in distant fantasies-
Magnified on a world you set apart
From the forgotten one others have wrought.

An escape is often necessary,
But you can't forget where you still remain,
Though time you spend in either world's nary
Going to keep you entirely sane.

These choices you make are arbitrary-
Hopefully, you'll still be kept entertained.

The waters are calm, the current carries
The depths of a pain which turned cumbersome.
Gently flowing downstream, into the night,
That crippling burden suddenly feels numb.

No longer can this suffering persist,
Not as he quietly rolls through the mist
After his final drop to the lowest
Point to which others are still unbeknownst.

His body falls limp, struck dead by the jump,
That bridge was undoubtedly high enough
To make his fall into the distant sump
Not just seem like another empty bluff.

At least he can't feel the sorrow and pain
He use to feel for the life he disdained.