Lost.
One of the worst feelings a person could have,
Especially if you're a complete spas.
When I think of the ugly future I have yet to come,
I feel all alone like a mob making me feel shunned.
I feel like a lunatic when I explode being all up in my anger mode,
I cuss out my parents like there is nothing to it.
I just spit these cussing mean wits like Kevin Hart.
But these white angelic suns like to make these evil puns.
But these suns burn out,
And this cycle happens again,
While I feel great when I'm on these pills,
Striding thru these fiery flower beds is a pain and makes me sane at the same time.
But when they die off,
It's like I got shot, or in fact, me firing the gun itself.
I make rash decisions while I make deep incisions into my skin,
Making my future kin want to jump of that high blimp,
Because of what I do to myself.
I am just a lying book on that shelf,
Covered in that pixie up dust.
While my life looks all glum and busted,
Someone finally picks up my book,
Blows off that wondrous pixie dust,
And starts to read,
To understand my pain.
Finally!! Someone understands why I have mixed stains in the once clean green paint!
Starting my new life will be rough,
But I know I can be tough and get thru this ****** stuff.
And now, I'm starting to find my self out of this wretched forest,
And I'm on my way finding that gold in that wooden chest.