Friday, February 20, 2009 @ 1:25 AM
Life Is Like A Prison.

Life Is Like A Prison by Puff

Life is a prison,
Oh God let me out.
No one to listen,
To hear when you shout.

Climb the walls of insanity,
Ride the waves of despair.
If you fall it don't matter,
There's no one to care.

Used to wish for a window,
To see birds, trees and sky,
But you're better without one -
Stops you aiming too high.

Watching freedom is painful,
For those locked away.
Seeing joy, love and happiness,
Another price that you pay.

Strong is good, weak is bad.
Be it false, be it true.
Your mind makes the choice,
And enforces it too.

Cell walls built by society,
With rules to adhere.
If you breach the acceptable,
You had better beware.

Hide the pain, carry on,
Routine is the key.
Don't let on that you're not,
What you're pretending to be.

Lock it all up inside you,
How badly that bodes.
Look out for that one day,
When it all just explodes.

Leaving naught but a shell,
Base functionality too.
But killing all else,
That was uniquely you.

So how do you grow,
With a timebomb inside?
Or how to defuse it,
Without destroying its ride?

You can't.


I'm not sick. I'm in the best of health to the extent an obese person can be. Every sickness I've had, I'm convinced it's an emotional problem. Was reading poems and this particular one. It just felt as though the writer had captured what I felt on the inside.

Am I depressed?

Again?

Friday, February 20, 2009 @ 1:25 AM
Life Is Like A Prison.

Life Is Like A Prison by Puff

Life is a prison,
Oh God let me out.
No one to listen,
To hear when you shout.

Climb the walls of insanity,
Ride the waves of despair.
If you fall it don't matter,
There's no one to care.

Used to wish for a window,
To see birds, trees and sky,
But you're better without one -
Stops you aiming too high.

Watching freedom is painful,
For those locked away.
Seeing joy, love and happiness,
Another price that you pay.

Strong is good, weak is bad.
Be it false, be it true.
Your mind makes the choice,
And enforces it too.

Cell walls built by society,
With rules to adhere.
If you breach the acceptable,
You had better beware.

Hide the pain, carry on,
Routine is the key.
Don't let on that you're not,
What you're pretending to be.

Lock it all up inside you,
How badly that bodes.
Look out for that one day,
When it all just explodes.

Leaving naught but a shell,
Base functionality too.
But killing all else,
That was uniquely you.

So how do you grow,
With a timebomb inside?
Or how to defuse it,
Without destroying its ride?

You can't.


I'm not sick. I'm in the best of health to the extent an obese person can be. Every sickness I've had, I'm convinced it's an emotional problem. Was reading poems and this particular one. It just felt as though the writer had captured what I felt on the inside.

Am I depressed?

Again?