The walls are colored,
But I can’t see.
Day by day I wonder,
What the hell is wrong with me?
Sunrises and sunsets are losing their luster,
And I wonder do I have any strength left to muster.
Can I continue down this path I’ve been traveling for miles,
When my shoes are torn and all I taste is bile.
This is a ride, a grand roller-coaster,
If that were true, why are the drops so big when the climbs are so small?
How can I fall so hard when I haven’t gone up at all?
How can I get off, for whom do I call?
I sit here and stare the color off the walls,
There’s only four, of that I am certain,
No more than a prison cell, but the door is wide open.
I lay here in this cube of isolation,
I’m surrounded by people who talk but don’t listen,
They have their own rooms; life is but a prison.
And we are sentenced to death,
But even then, face rejection.