She's obviously happy Obviously joyful Obviously peppy Obviously she's had a happy life Right? What isn't obvious is her tears, the ones she lets flood out after shutting her bedroom door at night. Her scars she's hidden after the incident. The "friends" she left behind. No one knows She's dying inside No one knows How much she wants to jump How much she wants to pull the trigger How much is weighing down on her shoulders. She acts happy She acts joyful She acts peppy She is woeful. Blood and death fill her thoughts. Cheer and hope fill her spoken words.
Welcome to her house of many bones Step into one of life's great unknowns With broken dreams and shattered heart In this carnival of freaks she is apart For the price of a ticket you can see All the horror, and agony there could ever be
All we ask is to put down your stones On the left is a kingless throne No love was ever ment to stay I don't know why, it's just that way On your right is the dreams that's died Where want and reality did collide
In the next room you will find All the demons that are in her mind Young man, please step back These demons will, and do attack On her arm's you'll see the scars Made with their talon like sharpened claws
Please don't dottle, let's hurry along This sad little journey we don't want to prolong Up next you'll find Human monsters of every kind They all wear a clever disguise You won't even see them unless your wise
Of the shadow men take no heed Off the sorrow they just feed The closets doors all are open wide Not one skeleton does she hide Please don't be scared, please don't shout The are free to dance about
Last but not lest I want to show What happens when the anguish grows Tormented by years of unbridled strife In the coffin lies her pitiful life It's not her body, for she is the walking dead Heart in taters, screams echoing in her head Eyes opened wide with years of dread
The light and happiness are always there mocking You'll find her over there in the corner rocking Yes she had to be restrained In the straitjacket she will remain It's for your safety, not hers For the pain she endures Is not for weak amateurs
Exit on the right Single file, please don't fight Enjoy the rest of the attractions We guarantee a hundred percent satisfaction Unless in this carnival of woeful souls you are captured Then your only hope will be the rapture
I am a cold, bleak and weary melody; Forced out of guitar strings, alone, a solitary piece made by a starving man. My low notes bring down the sturdiest ship, dragging its corpse to lay down on the sea-floor.
I am a low pitch plea of woeful "help me"; a drowning man swallowing water as his mouth seeks the air. My voice is wispy smoke of years of no use, contaminating the very lungs from which it originates from. And sleep, she is a blissful siren. Bringing me to underwater caverns- chanting and humming melodies as the pressure takes me down under and my eyes close in surrender.
I am more dead than my corpse will ever be; just an empty sea-shell- no pearl, no life.
I found this on an old note book. It dates back when I was in the shallow waters of depression. Such horrible times, it gave me a sense of vertigo just by thinking about it, hopefully I'll never sink back under.