I saw the world through different eyes today There was no clouded judgement, fake, pretentious nature I could laugh at anything Be anyone Pity anything Yet the moon still carried on shining
And although we squabbled over art I realised Art is nothing but a squabble
For sobriety restrains the person I can be And the person I am And those restraints keep me in a place I don't want to be
They lock me down in fear and in shame For the person I can be is caged It screams out Opinions which deter people and denounce
And as I see you run through the streets Ever searching for a place to fit in My ankles become weak They buckle They cannot carry me
For I find no easier place to fit in Than my very own skin The place of an outcast An ungrateful brat Who drools at the thought of an empty mindless space
Where no judgement, snobbery or scoff is placed For the idea of a flee ridden rug, A broken kettle, A piercing mattress, An unread journal
It SCREAMS to me freedom
A natural scribe, A just life An unjustified rhyme
It calls to me It calls on and on
But tomorrow I will be the person The world destined me to be An untuned symphony Beating away with a monotone rhythm
Because doubt rears its ugly head Churns a putrid dread Which I carry to my empty cage of a heart