When all that you do is made out to be wrong,
and there is nothing more to try.
It can feel like your words have been muted,
no matter how loud you cry.

When a person will not hear what is to be heard,
and only registers the opinions in their own mind.
Your life becomes a lonely place to be in,
No escape or release to help you unwind.

The weight you carry, starts to make you drag you feet in the dust,
Scrapping the dirt and picking up the grime,
Of bitterness, resentment and discust.

Your ***** and dusty path will take you no-where,
So you must always pick up your feet,
Change the direction to the scenic route,
and smile to all you great.

So although there is that one person,
Who choses to knock you back.
Remember you can take the higher ground,
and find the more sunlite track.

You can say im dead inside,
Im just sick  of  having **** to hide
I don't  have to lie any more you know,
Without  the hate i have  a chance to grow,
Where hate was once a flood, purging the land,
Now its just water falling through my hands

There's no thrill in a roller coaster that only goes up.
A constant fear of falling is all we breed.
Why place ourselves somewhere we could get hurt?

Because we need the downhills.
Without them,
We have nothing accelerating us forwards.

I look forward into the great expanse, and

I see nothing. It is dry and it is arid and nothing

grows, not the toughest of  weeds. I walk and

I hear nothing. Only the echoing solitary footsteps I

force onwards. Ghosts and tears have fallen long ago.

All options blur into one: a steamed mirror;

a compass that cannot decide which way is North. So

onwards and forwards into the plane, though blinded and

fearful. For there must be something out there,

something for me.