When all is said and done
I know I will miss this place
Miss the people
The view from the windows
The pillow I cuddle each night
But at the moment I feel like a rat in a cage
Poked and prodded and just now
Catching the scent of nearby freedom
Into a frenzy pacing the bars back and forth
Looking for a way out
Yet knowing that there isn't one just yet

I stand in the mirror and I must ask
Who am I?
As I see it now I'm an upcoming young woman
Dressed in white with the future laid out before her
Finally commanding the respect I once craved
But I listen to the music
Our old songs
And I remember when I was nothing more than a passenger
Just trying to get to a destination
And somewhere between here and now I changed
From another emo gutter rat to a lady
And for so long this is what I thought I wanted
But the title of lady doesn't suit me at all
So as I stand in the mirror it's not one reflection I see but two
A put together lady in red
And a thrasher in black
And they both smile the same sick twisted way
And I just wish it was easy to figure it out
Who am I?

Click-clack clatter claws at the doormat.
Right where our ramada had roofed a small rat.
"What was that?", asked the rat.
Which in fact, twas our cat.
Nearing fast to the rat
Who has asked, "What was that?"
Twas a blur, and a crash,
Then the black flash did slash,
But fell flat.

I never asked to join the rat race.
But being a cognizant participant of the
perpetual scramble
I've noticed
it seems
we're always neck-and-neck,
nose-and-nose--
it's me!
No, *******--
it's you--you're winning--oh,
wait--it's me again!
You!
Me!
Him!
ME!
you,
him, me, you...
Is this a marathon we're supposed to sprint?
Are  humans even capable of doing that?
Or... hamsters?
I slow down and become a fat ******* lump,
moving slowly, and yet somehow,
there you are beside me still.
There is our row of hamsters wheels,
and here is our imaginary race
to a finish that exists in an industrial dream.
The soul resides in the breath
we can never catch
as we are racing--
You're WINNING,
I'm winning!
You, me, you, him, her, me... again.
And again.
And again.
For efficiency's sake
we race in a row.

It’s a familiar sight, that is my ceiling,
When I wake in the night with a familiar feeling;
A sense of worry and a cloud of dread,
From the rat in my mind, scratching my head.

I do my best to ignore or pretend,
But sadly for me this rat’s my best friend,
He warns of a busy brain, with bad times ahead,
Caused by words unspoken and things unsaid.

He nags at joy, and cherishes sorrow-
And makes you fear the start of tomorrow.
The rat never lacks devotion,
And can turn drops of doubt into an ocean.

I hope you don’t know the scratch and the chew,
Of drifting through life, not knowing what to do-
With that gnawing rat that keeps persisting,
That you’re not living your life, but just existing.

I wish this rat wasn’t so well fed,
Cos when I see my friends he’s there in my stead.
They think that I’m angry, grumpy and mean;
But I wish they knew that I’m not what I seem.

It’s gone on so long that I’m starting to think;
That he’ll never stop and he’ll never blink.
I feel it always, in my skull where he’s sat;
The doubts in my mind, in the shape of a rat.

Force a smile
and stand up straight
first leg's a mile
ready at the gate

Please do not worry
if you cannot relate
we're off in a hurry
it's sort of innate

To leap and bound
and always be late
but always be running
it's sort of our fate

To run and never get there
to die and never know where
or why our fate is unfair
or if you ever did care