When I was little, a little boy – the best things in life didn’t seem so easy to destroy. Now that I’m older, I see the way of the world and what it is in and of itself. The pain it causes me at night moves me out of peace like a conveyor belt.
From the nursery days to now, I still feel ashamed. I will never be worthy or royal, and instead feel the same. I may always feel without a home and lost, as if I’m traveling through wheat fields. Like a rat in a cage, I am trapped in a prison of what everyone expects me to feel.
With my yellow jacket in the rain, I will never understand why I cause everyone so much pain. Perhaps I will one day pay the price and face the strain, dreaming on about a world of change.