I have no thoughts about how long my life will be lived, I'm sure there soon will be an end.
My life doesn't agree with what I want for it, It seems to me everyone chooses most things for me.
I want to say what happens to me, but I'm trapped in a shell that everyone seems to be holding down, I scream but no one hears me.
No matter how loud or long I scream no one hears my voice lingering with an echo in my small box that i live.
Someday I will be let out of my shell but that day won't come until I'm put into a new box, the box I will spend eternity in.
It's coming soon, I feel my-self dying, I feel my-self slipping away into the shadows where i soon will live with no pains, no thoughts just happy memories that I can salvage from my life ridden brain.
