My sadness is a toxin
Of which I'm fully infected
It shows in the bags on my eyes
The cuts on my skin
The bruises on my face
I breathe it every day
When I skip a meal
Or skip a class
(When you think about it, there's so many things to skip in a life)
I feel it in my bones, my chest, my heart
Weighing me down; suffocating under sheer pressure
I've tried to cure myself
With conversation, medication, ******-analyzation
But the sickness prevales; it's already latched into my lungs

My sadness is a toxin
Of which I want no one else to breathe in

Every where I go these days
I see many many a crow.
Some are black some are white
Many colors they do grow.

They tackle many hard jobs each day
Holding together what would fall apart.
The crows get together in very tight groups
And accomplish much until ripped apart.


Then I found out in my observations
they all had the same first name.......
VEL.


Lunacy prevales when all alone.