At eighteen years of age
Contemplating the possibilities...

At eighteen years of age
Contemplating the possibilities...

I sit here in this dark room.
While I wish I could write to you...

Life is only reflecting my deeds,
punishing me for foolish creeds...

May it be a task as to forgive,
Something so hard makes it easy to live...

You quietly say good night,
as i fear the soft click...

I'm tired of waiting,
I'm done with the rest...

Yeah she's fighting the greatest war alone,
In her mind ,all her past written in stone...

I find myself looking at a new room.
Taking the chance because you knew...

And here i lay dreaming,
of your mistaken disease...

On this poem
I write the tears...

As white doves fly over a patriotic nation,
The crowd looking up, recognizing King's...