Words never straight always being turned
Every ounce of body, hair, feeling burned
Why so much trouble, why so much strife
Why must I continue in this desecrated life
The harder I try to stop, the more I begin to bleed
Plot becoming clearer, I am the poisoned seed
Left for destruction, bred for seasoned pain
Words are all that are left, the only way to maintain
Or complain, or blame, the blackened train
On its way to leave me scarred and lame
Must I strive to prove, my self worth?
What happens if I can’t do it?
What happens if I refuse?
What happens if I can’t commit
And my breath is all that is abused?
