Thinking about the future
makes me want to stay
in bed all day,
pretend that I don’t have to
get up and face the world,
yet the facts are drawn on
the ceiling of my bedroom.

When it's me, Who is there?
When it's me, Who will care?
It's a heavy load to bare
Especially when there's no one there

When you feel so down and hollow
It is a bitter pill to swallow
Overcome by masses of sorrow
Hoping the sun will come tomorrow

Lonely as the rising sun
Lonely as soon as the day begun
Feeling like theres nowhere to run
Not being able to have any fun

When it's me, who will be there?
When it's me, who will care?

When they are at your door
you already know, it already is
too big to comprehend

Heaven does not help me
I don't understand the higher purpose
of the war, I can only hope

for an outcome that makes sense
We are promised soft fruit
but we get stones to eat

Luck turns, coalitions switch
and we stay behind, without help
and love we keep plodding on

until an illness releases us
from the hard life
we never dreamed of

Each step is taken                      
                                for granted.

Confident that the terrain will remain
unchanged, solid and dependable beneath
our feet, beaten down by the ones
who have walked before us,
we forget to think about
our destination, and when the
path inevitably betrays our trust,
our arrogant stride falters
as the world shifts beneath our soles.

It is no wonder that we stumble when
trying to blaze our own trail.
So, remember to be wary about
where you step on your quest
for answers.

Life is not viewed linear:
not a happier year, a worse day;
It's the bigger picture and the sum of each day that make up the whole puzzle.

You can't say you had a boring year, or a sadder year and compare it to the past years.
You can have a sad day and it's still a beautiful life.

For life to be viewed as beautiful, it does not have to be pretty or happy all the time.

And to be fair, life is a mosaic.
And a ******* hard-to-interpret artwork. And art is meant to be messy, unstable, hard to look at:
but still amazing, beautiful and interesting.

Imagine an artwork, with super easy strokes to define
and colours that are too vibrant to name, would that be still amazing?
Sure it is, still!

But the most beautiful artworks are probably one that poured with a whirlwind of emotions and
thoughts one can't easily decipher — unfathomable, ineffable, and makes one wonder and wander.

I'm Alive
But only still.
Can't thrive
Cold is shrill.
Fight & Fight
Work & Pain.
Suffering,
But All
In Vain.
Hours glide by
I'm still bored.
Crying on my
Bathroom Floor.
I'm Tired
Of this silly
Game.
You tell me
To Play,
But that won"t
Fix my
Shame.