It’s coming to that time, I’ve been so complacent.
Breathing air of unease,
I look alright; surely,
No one will know.
When I’m seeing it for what it is,
Down the line, there will be time
to fix it.
It’s a madhouse in my head –
Everything doesn’t make sense
No prescribe in a point
Where one wants to exist.
Desperately dreams,
seemingly, make-believe –
a place I’d like to go.