I hope that one day it'll all make sense,
But until then I'm stuck living in the past-tense,
This isn't my choice, it's against my will,
Because I can't tell my brain how to feel,
They say we grow from our life experiences,
But I'm struggling to do that, in all seriousness,
People tell me that I have a beautiful skill,
That I can make one feel my mind by words that are real,
But lately I find it to be more of a burden,
Thoughts that I can't stop from turning,
One day...I hope not so far away,
I just may...actually make it, to their dismay.








