Lost and confused, he walks along the aimless path
Reluctantly. He looks back,
As he always does. He can't seem to stop.
All his wrong decisions
All his mistakes
All his self hatred.
It laps at his heels. Taunting. Daunting. Haunting.
He watches all his goals and dreams slip away. He takes a few steps toward them but, just like always,
He looks back,
and questions himself.
He doesn't deserve them.
He can't achieve them. Even if he tried.
He looks ahead once more
And then they're gone,
those grand dreams.
those bright ideas.
He goes back to wandering aimlessly, cloaked in his own personal shadows.
"Perhaps I like living this way." He suggests to the empty void. His voice simply echoes back.
"Why else would I give up like this?
Why else would I do what I've done?
Why else would I have stopped trying?
Why?
Why?
WHY?"
At this point he's screaming. All he can hear are his frustrating echoes.
There's no one there to listen. He kept it that way. Made sure it stayed that way.
He looks at his scars,
wondering why he even bothers anymore.
In the corner of his eye, he spots a paper and pen long abandoned.
With nowhere else to go
He sits down
And writes.
"Lost and confused I walk along this aimless path..."
