14 March 2013
Squirming, creeping, crawling,
Fingernails I am gnawing,
Nervous thanks to friends,
Say the devils in my eye,
Why oh why do they keep me here?
Such a dreaded and awful place,
Sometimes I tell them what I think,
But receive a slap to the face,
My friends say they are good to me,
But I see through their lies,
To them, I am just baggage,
With them I have no ties,
Sometimes, when I get bored,
Of my dull and boring world,
I close my eyes and wonder,
If out the window reality was hurled,
Into the abyss, deep, deep down,
Gone forever, a long lost treasure,
Where it belongs at last.
Losing Your Grip • Opuss № I