Freed from shackles of baseless mind junk
I found my guitar inside my broken down car's trunk,
Life had sunk to an all time low
But this never ever felt like a first time blow.

Difficult times make it easier to be stressed
Am I afraid of this stress or am I obsessed?

Numerous pedestrians pass me by, noone stops by
If someone comes to a stop it is never to say hi.

Instead of someone it was me putting my mind in bondage
Felt so done with at such a tender, young age.

Hope is life, weakness invokes death,
One thing I know for sure, I'll fight till my last breath.

The days go by, I keep sleeping inside my misery
Is it scorching hot, or is it awfully chilly?
I do not care to observe.

It creeps me out to think that I deserve this misery
Creepier yet is the feeling hissing, "This is where I wanna be."

But now I've realised what to do to not get butthurt
Life is not sweet like lemonade or treacle tart.
© Dhritiman