My creativity is haltered,
i'm stuck on a continuous train
I could stop if my brain would kick in and find a exit or a object to throw in front of it
but its stuck moving,thoughts over thoughts thrown away down they go, down the drain.
I don't even think twice I know its not good enough for them I ask why, why isn't it good enough for them?
i'm running low on fuel, im drained and my creativity is on the floor stomped all over by people I don't know,
I scream for them to stop,
The train came to a halt
  I got off it was the final stop no more room for me I was empty and useless and no good for society.
but when I got off others did too. They pleaded that I bring back what I once had i cannot i stopped the train for some kind of acceptance I was on my knees for people who didn't know me
and yes I was begging for them to show affection
They are strangers, not friends not family but there criticism seemed more important to me. its what the people want
not me.