R.I.P. (Radical. Immortal. Poetry.)

Poison within

Many people say I'm gifted

But my gifts are always wasted,

For I can't find any use for it,

I'm stuck in a room and just sit.

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How odd, my childhood full of highs,

But now it's all lows and sighs.

It seems I am not really growing up,

I have ambitions but I'm not at the top.

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I remember when dad was here,

Back then I didn't know what is fear,

But now it's where I am living in,

Circulation of the poison within.

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Feb.27 2015