Most of my friends had disappeared
And all the words I heard were authoritarian
Warning of life’s troubles as they troubled mine
I was discovered by a few and we traded stories for sanity
Traded in education for free thought
Smoking helped to pass the time
Though, it seemed that days just never went
Writing helped to calm my thoughts for a period
Then unleashed a myriad of thought
A well of creativity I never knew I had
Words scattered and I’d found my calling
With my few and stories I stayed
Lamenting my depression to keep myself happy
Wallowing in misery for entertainment
Before awaking to a new world
Free of 8AM mornings
Of 12:40 lunches
Of rigidly scheduled days
Free to roam and be afraid
Now, I still have my words and few
It’s just a matter of breaking away from the corpse of my old life
And beginning anew
Feedback is appreciated.
