Losing my best days, avoiding the suns rays,
No play just survival of the being,
There's a bigger picture my mind is seeing.
In the darkness of a cold room I confine myself,
Scanning through books sitting, waiting, on my shelf,
Developing the worlds into word form.
Is it normal to be so formal,
Secluding my real thoughts for the keyboard,
Racking my brain it's like scraping a chalkboard.
