Under the starry night sky I sit,
With my binoculars on my lap.
I looked on as they stars started to knit,
A beautiful, star-dusted map.

Beneath the umbrella I stand,
A bouquet of flowers in my hand.
The wind picked it up, sweeping it away,
Now it's a memory, no longer part of the day.

As it all sinks into black ink
And flecks of white paints the sky,
I can’t help but think
How I screamed till my throat ran dry.

Sharp, harsh voices, cutting across the silence
Made my throat go raw.
I let out all my feelings in noise, for I hate to choose violence.
And during the still of the night, when not a soul saw
That was when I needed guidance.
Cause under that night sky, my voice thundered into a jar.

I just needed to feel the adrenaline,
Of being in pain,
Being weak,
Confused,
Hurt,
Constrained,
Useless,
Misunderstood,
Small.­
So I can finally understand them all