The skies are grey,
My mind, now blank.
I cannot go another day,
Staring into this empty plank.

It shouldn't be dull and grey,
Cause it should be a colourful array!
For me to be proud of,
But now, I'd rather give it a shove.

But what happens when that fire inside you dies?
What happens then?
Do you have to keep telling them lies
And asking yourselves when?

Or maybe the fire hasn't died,
Dimmed is all. I thought it lied.
For a passion like this, don't disappear,
Maybe it's hiding itself under the pier.

But the fire inside you does die.
One day,
Someday.
And I'm afraid that day is near.

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