t’s hard, to use the method of escapism to deal with the reality around
For writing, music, games, art, reading, can be mesmerizing to distract
But sometimes it isn’t enough
And you still have to cry into a pillow alone at nights
Though it may sound as melodrama, the harsh reality is it’s true
For many are not lucky to have grown up in good homes
To have had loving and caring parents
That pain sits like a razorblade pillar in your stomach
And your tears sting your cheeks like saltwater acid
Then you have to muster up strength, and keep your hopes on an even level
And for those that are the unfourtunate ones, always know that you are wonderful
And that your cage isn’t permanent