Books are not an adventure
A pen is no longer a bridge for my thoughts
The rain is not a smile on my face
My mind is currently tangled in knots

The world is not my oyster
and I am no pearl
My goals are boring
I don't want my thoughts to unfurl

The shadows are my home
Their arms are my bed
Their whispers I do love
But all the same I do dread

There's nothing about it
but an exasperated sigh
I've tried every door
I really have, no lie