These poems that you write
Their words exaggerate.
They notice every detail
They all collaborate.
They turn a fine reality
To this stirring nightmare.
The thoughts in your head
They become your puppeteer.
It's your own fault, Riley.
Why, darling can't you see?
You chose to play this game.
Can't back down and cannot flee.
You caused this endless mess
You chose to start this race.
Your words; your competition
And they're picking up the pace.
Leaping, running, crawling
You're shrinking with each step.
These words are your creation
But they're beating you instead.
They suffocate your hope
They drown your self belief
They choke your happiness
And they won't give you relief
Its as if this fine reality
Has taken a new shape
Has snatched you from your life
Now you're trapped with no escape.
You havent noticed until now
But your world of hopes and dreams,
Good thoughts and happy humming;
You are tearing at the seams.
Your words; your competition
This race is almost won.
Your words; your competition
Now the competition's done.