Where'd you go, self?
Where are you?
Are you hiding away,
or afraid to shine through?

Why don't you come
around anymore?
Did you get swept
up in the world?

Did you change who you are?
Did you buy a disguise?
Are you the one hiding,
or did I close my eyes?

Do you just have
too much to do?
Or am I the one
who's too busy for you?

Are you too ashamed
to show your face?
Why are you running?
Unlike others, I'll chase.

I'll be back
In a few days.
I've got to find myself,
Before I'm too far away.

Originality is dead
Everything that can be done
Has been done
And creativity is a joke
Because the words he writes
Have been said a hundred times in a hundred different ways
Better or worse, its the same
And that sameness is suffocating
For an individual is the highest from of life
And the mob has overwhelmed him
To the point where he can't see why
He should bother fighting for his life

You wish you could fly away
On the wings of a dragon
To a happier land
Escaping the pain of adolescence

But broken people
Receive no respite
From the damage suffered
Every moment

Hundreds of faces
Familiar and not
Hundreds of voices
and millions of thoughts

Busy and loud
And loud and busy
Lost and confused
And nauseous and dizzy

Laughter and tears
Sunset and sunrise
Tears from laughter
And tears from cries

It never ends
Or so they say
*******, I hope
It'll end someday.

I feel like,
I write about,
the same **** thing...

ALL the *time

You hear the ticking of the clock
Steady, droning on and on
Marking the path to death
A long, harrowing journey

You heard the ticking of the clock
Or rather, you thought you did
Until the sudden revelation that it was a bomb
Intent on shortening that journey quite considerably