Sometimes I feel like an outsider.
Nowhere to belong.
Every word I say is wrong.
Trying so hard to focus on happy thoughts
that I completely lose my sense of the real world.
On the verge of tears
Running from my fears.
I guess I don't care anymore;
knowing that there is nowhere for me to go.
Stuck in Purgatory,
without any idea how to see beyond the hill.
So I'm looking from the prison inside my mind,
out at the beautiful starry night.
I'm running away from depression,
Running away from sadness,
Running to my wonderland.
Seeking love and friends along the way,
Only to be disappointed by myself.
Trying so hard to fit into the box that everyone has put me in.
I don't even know who I am anymore.
Still I'm just the society's outsider.
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YOU ARE READING
Hideaway
PoetryA person with a pen in its hands can do more damage than anybody else. Everybody has something to help them cope with their problems. Mine is writing poems, if we could even call this poetry... Anyway enjoy.
