it’s almost never ending yet I know it will come to an end
if its tangible it’s temporary yet I can never seem to mend
no matter how many nights I spend
with liquid pleas running down my cheeks
trying to inspire myself to be one that gets up & seeks
Yet I am lost in the middle
Life to me is just a complex riddle.
Times running out and I’m getting older yet I gain no value when my life fits into a folder
all my days are caged
All my smiles are staged
All my misery is contained yet it escapes sometimes
Hitting me as a strong wind hits its chimes

My sadness is unbearable yet I’ve not committed a crime
Why am I sentenced to fade into my blues until the end of time?